


Though Far Away

by CircusBones



Series: Durinisms [6]
Category: TOLKIEN J. R. R. - Works, The Hobbit (2012), The Hobbit - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst and Humor, Brotherly Affection, F/M, Friendship/Love, Loss, M/M, Oh my sweet summer dwarves, Platonic Female/Male Relationships, Secret Relationship
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-02-02
Updated: 2014-01-01
Packaged: 2017-11-27 21:26:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Major Character Death
Chapters: 16
Words: 29,133
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/666665
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CircusBones/pseuds/CircusBones
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>By popular demand, an alternate outcome to A Lover of The Light. The sons of Dis survive, though Thorin Oakenshield has fallen. Fili is a King who feels he's far too young, Kili can't get over a very inconvenient attraction, and Balin would appreciate a day off.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I got asks for an AU, and the idea tickled my brain! I like sticking to canon in general, being the Tolkien-phile that I am, because things in his text that are singular are so for a reason. For being brilliant, his mind was ten places at any given time while writing, so when something got lots of attention...say, Legolas & Gimli's unprecedented bond, the like of which hadn't been seen in years and years...it's important. Writing the last fic for these two I felt I respected that. But this is why AU is such a lovely place to play around in. Besides, secrets rarely make it into history books anyway ;)
> 
> This story takes the same route as A Lover of The Light, up to the Dwarves' escape from Mirkwood. All events since have been canon, including Thorin's passing. Our two ickles have survived, though.

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He somehow couldn't manage the toggles. Kili found that his vision seemed to be blurring, his fingers fumbling over the fine tunic that had somehow come to be in his possession. Someone in his periphery had muttered about the decency of elves. It was a fine bit of clothing. Blue, of a shade he preferred, embroidered with white. It was certainly fine enough for...for what was to happen, in a short while. 

Kili drew in a shaky breath, looking down at his shaking hands. A steadier pair were there, then, fastening his tunic up to his chin, Fili giving his little brother a brave face. Fili was pale, still, his wounds not yet entirely healed. The healing skill of the elves was great, but the young Prince had been nearly run through on an Orc's pike. Fili would be pale for some time yet, but he still lived. And as always, he was trying to be strong for Kili, who'd survived far milder wounds. 

“Get it out now,” He said, not un-gently, clasping Kili's shoulder, “We must not weep at his burial. Folk will be looking to us.” 

“I know,” Kili took a deep, shuddering breath, and then abruptly tugged his brother close, allowing himself a few short, unsteady sobs. 

“...There now, we did what we could,” Fili swallowed his own tears, Kili could tell. “He's gone, now. And we've got to say farewell.”

“Aye,” Kili stood up straight, swiping at his eyes, clearing his throat, “Won't do for a king's brother t'be seen blubberin'.” Fili gave him a wan smile in return, reaching over and handing him his cloak. 

“Aye, a king...”

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Thorin was to be entombed within Erebor, as his father and grandfather before him should have been. With Fili's insistence, the Arkenstone was buried with him. Both as his rightful legacy and, Kili knew, because Fili did not want it anywhere near him. He was to be a king, if a young one with many advisers around him. He wanted the doom that had haunted their line buried with his uncle, done with, new aims set before their people now.

It was a simple burial, if dignified and kingly. Laments were sung in deep, echoing tones, filling the halls above once again with the voices of Dwarves, perhaps chasing away lingering ghosts and the scent of dragon. Kili found it easier to keep a hold on himself under the eyes of so many. Even as the sight of the man whom he'd loved as a father for so long, resting in his tomb as if in simple sleep, nearly broke him. The familiar litany that had been repeating in his mind over the last few days seemed louder than ever. Reminding him of how he'd failed in protecting his uncle... 

But there was no changing what already was. Fili was King Under the Mountain now, regardless. Thorin would not have wanted the two of them to lose themselves in grief, but rather honor his sacrifice in winning back their home, by being steady, by being all that he'd raised them to. And so Kili mustered a resolve beyond his young years, as best he could anyway.

To his surprise, it was Thranduil himself who approached the tomb to rest the great sword Orcrist upon Thorin's crossed hands. The Elvenking murmured what could only be words of an honored farewell, bowing low before the fallen King. He was flanked by two others, Kili saw, his son, and...his heart turned over, as the Captain's eyes slipped over to where he stood, her expression soft and pained for him. Kili sucked in a breath and looked down at his feet.

In the aftermath of the battle, between recovering from his wounds and mourning for his uncle, he'd not thought on her in a while. For sure, she'd filled his head in Laketown, on the journey to the mountain, ever since they'd escaped Mirkwood, really. His grief had filled his mind since then, as well as his bewilderment over the reality of his new position. Yet there she stood, now, as tall and beautiful as ever, and sending him a soft smile that reminded his heart of all that she'd stirred in it those weeks ago.

He recalled the feel of her long red hair between his fingers, that one night he was allowed the indulgence. Tauriel was as beautiful then as she was now, in armor and armed, her head bent in respect of the dead. She was so close, and with the new peace his brother and Dain and brokered with The Elvenking, the enmity was lifted between their people, if not the intrinsic mistrust. She, in that moment, gave him reason to at least smile just a little in return, even as another ache in his heart reasserted itself. 

They were now closer than ever, and yet still so very far apart.

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	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh for being the same ship, I like the different kinds of interaction this setting provides. Also, AwkwardKing!Fili :D

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Life was waking up within Erebor. Word had been sent out long before, to The Blue Mountains especially, calling its people home. Already Thorin's Company and their kin who remained from The Iron Hills were putting a great work into the place. The halls smelled now of forges and food cooking, and rang again with the merry, industrious sound of picks and hammers clanging. 

The first few whole families had shown up just before Thorin's burial, refugees and their descendants who'd settled much closer than all the way out in the West. Many of their women were down helping the people of Laketown at the moment, content to be practical, and let their men fret over the walls of Erebor before officially moving in. Between rebuilding Erebor, Dale, and aiding the people of Esgaroth, the Dwarves were never idle, and that was the very best thing for those who'd lost Thorin Oakenshield, both as a King and a companion. 

Being low of spirits wasn't in Kili's nature. He was used to being the one who was there to put a smile on his mother, brother and uncle's faces. This was difficult to come back from, though, this loss in his heart. Their mother was on her way, and that would be a great comfort, he thought. And seeing his promised kingdom coming back to life and liveliness, well, that couldn't stop him smiling again, now and then, as he made his way through the walkways and tunnels, toward the palace that was now his home.

It wasn't as well-furnished as it had been in Thorin's youth, that was for sure. Everything that hadn't been stone or treasure had been torched, and blackened, burnt beds, wardrobes, clothes and other such things had been swept out. Now it was mostly filled with camp goods; bedrolls and makeshift tables and chairs. Cheery fires were in the hearths again, though, and good food was plentiful, chiefly thanks to the elves, who'd not been stingy in their help to the Dwarves after Thorin had clasped hands with Thranduil on his death bed.

And speaking of elves. 

Kili whistled to himself as entered the chambers that he was sharing with Fili, while his older brother (and now King) was still recovering. Warming his hands over the fire, he almost fell over to behold that, of the two elves tending his brother's dressings, one was Tauriel. She looked up from where Fili was lying on his bedroll, so very pale still, giving Kili a little smile in greeting. “Most of the healers are taken up with an outbreak of a fever down in Esgaroth,” Her light, almost musical voice explained before he could ask, “Luckily for your brother, his wound is healing well enough to risk my care.”

Kili approached his brother's side, resting a hand on his boot as he took in the wound on his torso. He'd truly almost been run through by an Orc's pike, embedded in his flesh. It was a miracle it had missed most of his insides, instead leaving a gaping hole and many broken ribs. The elves' skills had saved what would have surely killed the heir of Durin, had they not been there. It was still red and oozing a bit, jagged and ugly, and would leave quite the scar. But Fili was smiling at him, for all he was still pale. “It looks real clean...” Kili noted, softly, and the blonde healer (was it a man or a woman? Kili couldn't tell) nodded.

“He's free of infection, and it has nearly closed.” Tauriel said, helping to ease Fili up as the healer wrapped him with fresh bandages, bracing his healing ribs, “A few more days of our herbs and keeping the wrappings clean, he'll be completely out of danger. That means no trips to the Long Lake,” She added, pointedly, and Fili grumbled, good-naturedly.

“I should send -someone-, though,” He maintained, looking to Kili then, brightening, “Brother, can I ask it of you?” He still asked as if he were mildly inconveniencing his little brother, not as a King with expected duties to dole out, and it made Kili grin, “With all that word and aid has reached them, they've not actually seen any of us personally, since we left them. Bard has assured them of our help, yet...”

“Of course!” Kili patted his leg, as Tauriel eased him back down, the healer passing him a mug of steeped medicinal herbs, “First Princely duties, eh?” He gave what he hoped was an enthused smile, when truly, the prospect somewhat terrified him. Kili was hardly able to talk to people properly in normal settings, as an ambassador?!

“You can accompany me, then, I travel there tomorrow,” Tauriel spoke, turning from Fili's bedroll and giving him a smirk, “Your turn. Off with the tunic.”

Kili swallowed hard, but acquiesced, plopping down cross-legged on his own unruly pile of blankets. He hoped his discomfort wasn't all over his face but, knowing himself as he did, it probably was, painfully so. Still, Fili was busily being helped back into his clothes by his healer, and thus the only eyes on him were Tauriel's, bright and green and steady.

He loosed his fastenings and tugged his tunic off over his head, clearing his throat as she knelt before him. With practiced hands she tugged aside the wrappings on his chest. It was a shallow wound, yet long, a great slash from a jagged blade running from his left collar bone to his right flank. Her fingers brushed his skin, perhaps lingering a bit longer than strictly necessary, mapping the scar. Kili sucked in a breath, watching her, her eyes that fluttered up to his.

“...It's well-closed,” She murmured, clearing her throat, rousing herself and applying a thin coat of poultice to the injury. Kili found himself smiling a little, his own discomfort forgotten as he realized she was a bit undone, this close to each other, as well. Suddenly, all he could think on was how her hair had felt in his hands. He breathed in gently, shutting his eyes...it smelled as sweet as it had then. 

“...After this compress, you can let it to the free air, just keep taking your tea...” She went on, somewhat shakily. Her eyes returned to his, and narrowed, her lips spreading in a smirk even as her ears were somewhat pink, “Though, who could know how much of it gets sucked up by all this unsightly hair on your chest.”

“Oh do not even try,” He surprised even himself by quipping, “You wish Elven men looked this fine with their shirts off.” 

“In your most fevered of dreams,” She murmured low by his ear, and oh, that was new. Fili got this kind of sass from the ladies, not him...the healer cleared her (yes, definitely a her, now) throat then, arching a brow, and Tauriel schooled her features in the space of a breath. Something unsure and startled in her eyes lingered, though, as she rose, her gaze on his to the last. With promises to return tomorrow the healer left, Tauriel just behind her, and Kili found himself staring at the empty doorframe long after she'd gone. 

Well, that infatuation wasn't lessened in the slightest since their imprisonment.

“...Try to keep that under control,” Fili sighed, grinning good-naturedly at his little brother from his bed, “At least until we're a bit more established?” Kili let out a long groan, scrubbing a palm over his face. 

“Yes, my King,” He replied, regally. A pillow hit him upside the head.

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	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm gonna tell you now...this one will have a lot more grownup funtimes than the last ;)

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We are what we are  
Don't need no excuses  
For the scars  
From our mothers

And we know what we know  
'Cause we're made of all the little bones  
Of our fathers...

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The winter was well under way. In the weeks since the great battle, snow had fallen a few times on the mountain, somewhat hiding away the remnants of foul orc corpses. Most had been burnt long ago, but it was a vast amount of land and most of the people's energy had been directed elsewhere, to the rebuilding of Dale, the cleaning out of Erebor. If a few foul, cursed orc and goblin corpses were left to rot, freeze, and then turn to dust under the snow, well, so be it.

“Remember to mention your brother often,” Balin was telling him outside of the great gates, as Kili hefted his pack in the falling snow, “And that more gold has been sent to the men in the South, for the safe sending of further supplies...”

“...To such an important trade post, I remember,” Kili grinned wide at the old dwarf, though, gratefully and warm. For all he'd teased Balin for his lessons over the years as they were growing up in the Blue Mountains, now, for once, Kili was more grateful than ever for the seasoned advisor. The man had taught him his letters, his histories, and now as a Prince and heir long before he'd ever thought he'd be, Kili was not so secretly glad to have the man's words in his ear. 

“My people are still moving their wines up and down the lake as they ever have,” Tauriel added, moving from their horses to his side, “A simple thing, but it is assuring to the men of the South, Gondor and Rohan, that Esgaroth is as valuable a post as ever, and that Erebor being rebuilt is no small matter.”

“Indeed,” Balin agreed, his tone far from discourteous of the young elf, unlike other dwarves. He was a diplomat to the last, “The two of you shall be fine voices to the downtrodden folk down there, I've every faith in you,” He gave Kili a warm embrace then.

“Look after my brother,” The Prince murmured, and Balin smiled, waving their caravan off.

“That is the first time you've uttered something that sounded somewhat like a command,” Tauriel noted with a smile, as they rode. Kili sent her a side-long grin from under his hood, noting the softly falling snow gathering in her long hair. His hands twitched at his reins, overcome with the urge to reach out and brush them away.

“Perhaps I'm better at it, where my brother is concerned,” He shrugged, glancing behind them at the looming, brilliant doors, “...It does look grand again, doesn't it?” His voice was wistful, eying the repaired gates. Tauriel was watching him, he knew, her sharp eyes scanning his face.

“...He'd be very proud of you.” She murmured, eyes going to the road ahead. Kili looked at her, and smiled.

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The trip across the water to the refugees of Esgaroth would take two or three days, and so having at last come to the feet of the mountain, Kili and Tauriel camped for the evening on the banks of The Long Lake, just the two of them. Masons from Erebor would be following on the more roundabout trail over land, to lay foundations, piles, and aid in the rebuilding where they could. The two diplomats went ahead on the swifter route, and even the dwarves thought the Captain of Mirkwood guard enough for their prince. Said prince, however, still seemed puzzled by her presence. 

“When will your king call you back, do you think?” Kili was asking, as if the thought had just presented itself, the two of them setting up a shelter from the snow just inside the relative protection of a copse of bare, gnarled trees. Tauriel shrugged, smirking, stomping a stake into the ground with precise force.

“I'm fair certain he thinks I am spying for him,” She admitted easily, and was amused that Kili had to pause, blinking. Tauriel shrugged a shoulder, grinning to him, not ashamed of admitting as much, “Oh come now, for all that peace is between us, both our peoples remain wary of each other. Thranduil would be assured that, newly strong, the Dwarves of Erebor would not suddenly fall upon him.” She said all this lightly, though, because truly, the young Captain did not believe it of them, and was finding her own king to be increasingly paranoid even after all the good he'd done after the great battle. Kili smiled back at her, at length.

“So, are you still tryin' to get somethin' outta me?” He asked, moving to clear a spot for their campfire, rummaging for a tinderbox. Tauriel shook her head, watchfully eying the surrounding barren landscape out of habit before allowing herself to relax, to settle on the ground, removing her armor carefully. She didn't miss the way his eyes followed her hands and their swift movements, revealing the soft greens and grays underneath. Ducking her head, she smiled to herself, reaching for her cloak when she was done.

“No,” She finally answered him, “Unless you -are- plotting to route out Mirkwood?” She arched a brow, and the young dwarf grinned, the kindling lighting under his hands. 

“Nah, the food you've been sendin' is too good,” He glanced about, rubbing his hands together over the flames, snow still falling lightly, “What d'you reckon, think green things will grow here again by spring, summer? Will the animals return?”

“Very likely,” Tauriel nodded, smiling again, faintly, “Especially with my people helping to til the earth. The poison in the soil finally has a chance to drain away.” Her eyes fell to his again, full of a wry humor, “So, you'd best stay in our graces for at least another few seasons, if your people want to eat.”

“Yes, miss,” Kili responded, grinning back, “...You seem in fine spirits, for a high-ranking soldier stuck tailin' me,” He pointed out, looking at her a touch unguarded then. It was that look that seemed to always strike her, like a half-way hopeful and thoroughly appealing young pup. It reminded her of long evenings outside of his cell, with a friend to talk to. And always that something more, that stirring she'd felt the night they'd escaped, his touch to her ears...

“Well, it's nothing new, now is it?” She murmured, pulling up her hood against the gentle snowfall, even as a smile tugged at her lips, “It is an honor, that my King does trust me as a remaining emissary, not just a prying eye. And...” She glanced back at him, the words leaving her lips so very easily, “Perhaps I...I missed your company.” His grin was wide and slow, and Tauriel bit her lip as hers tried to match it, her ears and face warming, “I worried for you...after I'd finished cursing your escape, of course.”

“Did you then?” The dwarf looked far too pleased with himself, and the elf shook her head, unable to keep a straight face with him. She hadn't been able to for a while, after all. His boyish smile had been infectious from the first they'd met, deep in the darkening wood.

“How -did- you escape?”

“Magic,” Kili replied, lightly, for once managing to hide something behind that merry face. Tauriel sighed, waving a hand.

“One day, you'll tell me,” She murmured, still grinning as she roused herself and began unpacking their rations.

After a brief supper of wine and lembas (which Kili exclaimed over with a long sigh, launching into the sad tale of how the Company had eaten nothing but cram for weeks on end), they banked the fire and took to their shelter, a canvas above keeping the snow off, the stunted trees providing refuge from any wind. Tauriel of course hardly felt the cold, and knew too that dwarves were hardy against it themselves. Just so, Kili kept closer to the coals, lighting his pipe while Tauriel sat back against a tree, cloak wrapped close about her.

“...Almost looks normal, doesn't it?” He asked quietly, nodding to the still, snowy night, a halo of sweet-smelling pipe smoke above his head. Tauriel looked up from braiding back her hair, tilting her head, taking in the night. “Covering up all the ash and the dead in white...”

“It does,” She smiled, softly, “I imagine these might be the first snowfalls the Desolation has seen in a hundred years.”

“...Bet he'd have loved to see it,” Kili voice dropped to a whisper, eyes on the snow-coated branches above them, “Snow, and then the melt, and then green things growing again on the mountain's sides...”

“You'll see them.” She reminded him, hesitating for only a moment, before moving close to the fire again, close to his side. “And really, did not your uncle want this all for you, and your brother, most of all?”

“Aye, that's true, still...seems unfair, that he'd not get to see what he fought for all come about.”

“I understand that,” The elf pushed back her hood, the better to look at him. He bore an expression she'd known long ago, when her own father had slipped away from her, left her to bear her grief while his passed away in Valinor. After another moment, she reached out, resting one of her hands on his. “...You'd not tell me much of him, when you were my prisoner,” She smiled, as his fingers in their leather wrappings linked with hers, “You could...speak of him as much as you'd like, now?” Tauriel cleared her throat. Speaking of such things was new to her, and not always in her nature. But the amiable prince, he merely gave her fingers a squeeze, smiling a little.

“Few knew Thorin as we did, his family,” Kili told her, voice still reverently soft in the still, cold night, “He held himself lordly and well, before everyone...except us. He was father to me...” The dwarf swallowed, hard, “...He got, got tougher, held himself apart as we got older. Tryin' to make men of us, I know, but when we were small...he wasn't anything like he was in those last few days...” His voice broke, and he looked away. The impulse took her and Tauriel didn't hesitate this time, bringing his fingers to her lips. Oh, how she knew that pain...

“...It is best to keep remembering those times, though they may pain you now,” She whispered, when his gaze feel to her face, both pained and yet also bright, linking their free hands together as well, “When happy memories are the freshest in your mind, the harder ones won't seem so dark, or...or cast any darkness upon the memory of the man you loved.” Tauriel shook her head, then, even as he brought her fingertips to his lips, “...But then, I have had a hundred years of practice.”

“I will too. I'll think on him as my father, and as the hero in battle...” Kili gave her a little smile, and she met his eyes again, not bothering to fight the warmth that pooled in her chest, spreading through her limbs. That disposition, like sunshine even in the snow, even in his sorrow. How he burrowed into her, so... “It's hard to imagine you, being small.” She chuckled.

“I was very small, as a child,” She admitted, gently, her thumb tracing the places where his flesh met the leather of his fingerless gloves. “Skinny, always chasing the patches of sunlight through the trees...my father would take me out into the meadows. This was long before the creeping darkness, before the dragon...” Tauriel looked back up at him, finding him closer than expected, eyes unabashedly intent on her face. She swallowed, “I can promise you, though the pain will dull, you will still miss him in a hundred years...”

“S'all right...” Kili murmured, letting go of one hand so that he might reach out, winding an errant length of her thick red hair around his fingers. “Always was taught that, the things and people that don't leave your head alone, they must be the most important.” That half-smirk of his, with those sad, yet bright eyes, and she was done in, as was becoming the usual.

“...You've not left my head alone,” She admitted softly, just as that hand slipped all the way into her hair, tugging her in for a kiss. He tasted of wine and the cold and yet was so, so very warm. Arms wound together, and any voices of warning seemed very far away in the silent, snowy night. 

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	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Seriously, I love the drama and angst this kind of dynamic presents. Because I am evil.

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They'd spoken long into the night, wrapped up in her cloak. He'd lost himself in all of that long ruddy hair, in the easy smile on her face as they spoke in whispers close together. Kili found himself telling her all the things he'd so wanted to back in Mirkwood, about growing up, about his mother, Thorin, Balin, and the way all the lasses had always followed Fili around. “The day Laris took me out behind her father's forge was the worst,” He'd grinned wide, though, because her long slender fingers were in his hair, “I was so happy! And then she questioned me for near on an hour, 'bout my brothers favorite things.”

“Oh, that is harsh,” Tauriel winced, laughing softly in the muffled, snowy dark, “Though I have had other ladies ask me such things about Legolas, in my time...mind, I am not interested in ladies, but then,” She smirked, wryly, “Neither is he.” Kili downright snorted, taking her face in his hands again.

“We're learning all manner of secrets tonight,” He murmured, his blood warming as she hummed happily into his kisses.

And so it was jarring to the young prince, waking alone when they'd drifted off close together. Kili sat up with a start in the dawn, looking around wildly and with some strange, new terror in his heart. He supposed, later, that it had much to do with the recent losses and near-losses he'd felt, but in the present, he simply found himself letting out a long breath of relief when he spotted her readying their boats for the journey. 

“I was just about to wake you,” Tauriel told him with a smile. It was an oddly far-off smile, though, and Kili didn't miss it. He smiled back though, busying himself as well, tethering the horses for other oarsman who were due to come up the river, and packing up their shelter. As they moved about the small camp, he noted that she kept her distance. It was graceful, and easy, as much of the movements elves made were. It was also obvious, and when he took her hand by the boats, Tauriel drew away from his touch, swallowing, “The fire,” She murmured, slipping away to cover the coals in snow and ashes.

It was then that he recalled all the many good reasons why she would act this way. Some less kind might call him slow, but really, Kili had been far too happy to think rationally, to recall their two very different worlds. Perhaps the elf was doing so for the both of them, her eyes apologetic when they flickered to his, all still present in her gaze that had been there in the night, only guarded fiercely now. 

Was she ashamed of growing close to him, to a dwarf? Kili didn't think so. He hoped not, at the very least. 

There was plenty of time to think on it, anyway, as they steered their boats out into the misty current. They were laden with goods for the suffering Men of the lake, and each steered their own vessel for much of the day, in silence. He looked on her often, across the water, and usually found her eying the shores carefully, like the sentinel she was. Other times, though, he'd catch her looking at him with that same bit of longing, and she always looked quickly away. Kili sighed, applying himself to his oars. It was no good to puzzle this out on the lake, when they could say little more than shouted directions at each other over the waves the snow storm had riled up.

They took to the shores for the night, however, and there was little hiding from each other then.

“If...if you're cross with me, for...for all that happened last night...” Kili began, frowning as he set up their canvas as a tent this time, for the lack of trees on the bank. Tauriel shook her head, raising a hand to stop his train of thought right there as she took her turn at making a fire. 

“Not at all,” Tauriel murmured, hardly leaving a track in the new-fallen snow as she piled the tinder, “You've done nothing wrong,” She paused in her work, pushing a hand through her hair, shutting her eyes, sighing, “...It is not in my people's nature to...go about these kinds of...attractions...lightly...” She began, and he turned, frowning.

“Nor is it in mine!” He was quick to assure her, though a warmth quickly followed in his face, “I'm...I mean, not that I'd know, it's just that...well, I do know my own self, and I know that I don't care for you lightly.” He maintained stoutly, and that earned him a soft smile, at last. Then the elf sighed, shaking her head.

“I know that much of you,” She looked on him, biting her lip, “But try and understand, Kili, that when I tell you Elves do not feel things lightly...I mean it very literally. Physically, spiritually, as folk who live so long, -we do not love lightly-.” Her gaze was steady, willing him to remember all that she'd said before, of Elves and love, and in that moment he did. 

It all fell into place, her parents, her father and his passing into grief. The tent set up behind him, the dawrf prince plopped down onto the ground with a somewhat dazed look. Her voice went on, softer then, the sound of tinder striking punctuating her words, “You're your brother's heir, unless or until he marries and has children. I'm the Elvenking's Captain. If this fondness between us were allowed to grow...” Her words failed her, but Kili picked up her train of thought.

“We'd be very connected indeed, in worlds that would not much allow for it?” He cleared his throat, and she nodded, the flames licking the firewood and lighting on her face. Her beautiful, angular and alien face. Kili groaned, shaking his head, “But. What if,” He began, and Tauriel lofted a ginger brow, her lips twitching. He narrowed his eyes, smirking back, “What if, say...in a handful of years Fili -is- married, does have children, and our kingdom is...is as great as ever. Tell me, who would truly care?” He knew that last bit sounded a touch careless, but sod it. Looking on her, thinking on all he'd lost, all he'd gained that he wasn't really ready for...there was nothing that Kili wanted more in the world than her.

“...Only the gossiping minority, I suppose,” Tauriel smirked, slowly sliding around the fire to sit beside him, offering him the skin of wine, “There is much and more, though,” She murmured, softly, reaching to brush his hair back from his brow as he took a drink, “You'd never have children with me, if you followed this notion. There'd...there'd be no home in your mountains, there'd be no...” He stopped her, though, pulling her down for a kiss.

“...Will you fight beside me?” He found himself asking, close to her lips, knowing this was truly what he wanted, in this moment, and she nodded, green eyes searching his, and Kili smiled, “You're already my ally...will you be more than that?” She kissed him then, framing his jaw in her hands. “...That is all I want,” He swallowed, “Fili is expected to marry, have children, I want the wilds and the good fights and I want...I want you, to braid your hair every morning, to see that each of our lands are kept safe...”

“But will that always be all that you want?” She asked him, as she lounged by the fire, the better to be at his level as he sat, “Your life is much shorter than mine. In a decade or three you may very well want a home, a family with a proper Dwarf wife...” 

“I believe I can love as long and as steadily as you can,” He told her, stoutly, knowing he sounded so very young and protesting. But he meant it, he surely did, looking on her intently, willing her to see the truth through his eyes. She did, for all he could tell, dragging him in for yet another kiss, long and rough, her fingers scraping his scruffy jawline. 

“I love my forest,” She whispered, brushing his lips with hers as she did, “But oh, I love the sun as well, and I've often found myself imagining how it would fall on the meadows before Dale, on Erebor's gates...” She sighed, shutting her eyes, “...If I remain emissary, my path would often take me between our two kingdoms...”

“As would mine, I'm to be my brother's proper ambassador in time, after all...” Kili's grin grew, realizing what they were, exactly, saying to each other, “...I promise you, Tauriel, we'd only keep it a secret for a few years...”

“You're young and you're mad,” The elf murmured back, though her grin was just as wide, “...And I give you my heart, Prince.”

“You've had mine since that last night in the Wood,” He hurried to assure her right back, kissing her with a fervor. No doubts arose in his mind, though the reminders were there, as he lost himself in her kisses. Tugging at him, reminding him that he was potentially offering a lady her doom. It would never come to that, he stubbornly maintained. He promised himself, then, to never do her so ill a turn, and prayed that he was Dwarf enough to keep it. 

Of course, he could only promise for as long as he lived. Which was not so very long, to an elf.

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	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tolkien smut shall always be my personal Everest. Hopefully I've done good, and done good doing ;D

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Come here, oh, closer to touch, never enough  
Let me climb under your skin, oh let me in...

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“Now tell me truly,” He was asking her, as they ate their dinner of bread and rabbit. Tauriel had spotted it, but Kili had beaten her to the shot, bow draw and arrow shot through the creature's head. Oh, as if he'd not stirred her blood before...now they sat, licking grease from their fingers and following the meal with wine, and Tauriel met his gaze with a merry grin, which he returned, “What -would- your king's response be, if you told him of your affections now?”

She laughed, tossing her head, feeling the wine thick in her blood as she did, “Likely, he would remove me from action,” She replied, shrugging, leaning on his shoulder as she did. He pressed a kiss into her hair, and Tauriel sighed happily. Truly, such affections...she'd never sought them out, and yet, now that she had them, they were all that she coveted, “State that I am mad, send me to a healer...” She sent him a wry smile, “Perhaps one day he'd see different. I've no father or mother, and so folk would expect me to go by his recommending.”

“Would it be the same, were I a Man?” Kili asked, his voice sounding genuinely curious. “I mean...not often, mind, but sometimes our folk will marry with theirs, sometimes so will yours...you've never heard, though, of elves and dwarves...”

“I think war has had much to do with it,” Tauriel smiled, shrugging again, reaching out and playing with his hair, as he so often did with hers, “Feuds and disagreements shall be our legacies, but for the time before that bloody necklace,” At that, he laughed, loud and long, “Aye, and that our people cannot have children together, that might make the histories think this has never happened before.” 

“Hmm, there's a thought, how many of your lasses have gone dwarf, and folk none the wiser!” He mused, that insufferable grin on his face again. She lightly smacked his head, still smirking as she roused herself. The evening was getting on, and as the sun slunk behind the mountain the wind had picked up, uncomfortable even for the elf. 

“Or -your- lasses taken a fancy to our men?” She winked, motioning toward their shelter “Come, this night will be harsh, even on our hides.” He followed, after quickly banking the flames close outside of their tent. She settled easily into the confusion of blankets that were their bedrolls, and Kili followed her lead, grinning wide as he leaned back against his own bedding. 

“Harder to imagine, and s'not just my boasting!” He maintained, as she slid into the blankets beside him, toeing off her boots and happily drawing close to his side. The dwarf prince looked at her steadily, his grin firmly in place as he reached for her long hair, “In our culture, a lady's beauty is in her hair, a man's in his beard, even as we all have both,” He explained, looking a little shy, then, “You takin' pity on me I can see, but a dwarf lass bein' content with a bare-faced lad, well...”

Tauriel laughed then, shaking her head, “Perhaps we shall never know,” She sighed, propping herself up on an elbow, “And what would your brother say of this, if he knew now, mm?”

“He does,” Kili admitted, sheepishly, and Tauriel gaped. “I cannot hide much from him, he is my brother!” He laughed, “Ah but he thinks it only a one-sided fancy, so...” He trailed off, and Tauriel grinned, biting her lip as she looked at him. It was...singular, how she felt her youth in his presence. Legolas had long tried to coax her to be more merry, as befitting a young elf maiden, and it had never suited her nature. Until now, until him. 

“Perhaps, in the quiet of such places, I shall prove him wrong,” She murmured, reaching for him. Pressing him back against the blankets, she kissed him with a purpose, her lips slanting against his lazily and sweet. His hands immediately went for her hair, sliding through the long locks as his tongue met hers. The slightest hitch in her breath as he stroked the roof of her mouth, and he was groaning, reaching for the front of her tunic. 

This was it, the thought stammered against her brain as she guided his hands over the hidden fastenings to the liquid, flowing thing she wore under her armor. Mind, love was not all in the physical, as she understood it, but it certainly did help things along. And yet oh, how those rough fingers of his stirred her, shrugging her tunic away, left in leggings and leather girdle and little else. Tauriel did feel the cold, then, shivering and pressing herself closer to him. Kili flashed her a nervous, yet merry grin, swiftly pulling a blanket over the two of them.

“You're so pale,” He whispered, almost in awe against her throat. She sighed, smiling, giggling even as he wrestled off his leathers and belts until he was down to his own tunic and pants. Tauriel lofted a brow, but only got a smirk in return. “I run hotter'n most,” Was his only explanation for there not being more, and the elf was reduced to giggles again, that quickly turned to gasps as he turned them over. His mouth went to her chest with an almost reverent awe, touching and tasting her breasts with an eager mouth, eager fingers.

Tauriel felt her breath coming in shorter gasps, reaching down, lifting her hips to slide off her leggings over her toes. His lips grinned against her flesh, she could feel it, and the look he sent her was so boyish and sweet...she sighed, dragging him up for another kiss, working his bottom lip between her teeth, as it just seemed the thing to do. The groan he gave her seemed encouraging. “Your turn,” She whispered, grinning, tugging his tunic up and off over his head. Kili smiled wide, and she found herself taken aback for a moment, taking him in, sliding her fingers over the hair on his chest. “Oh...”

“It's not...I mean, I know you're not used t...oh,” He trailed off, as, with him straddling her as he was, Tauriel rose and began pressing kisses to his chest, dragging her teeth, her tongue moving over a nipple. All that she'd known, read of, none of it prepared her for the aching, hungry thing that awoke within her at the sight of him, and seemed to wake in him as well. 

Drawing her lips to his again, Kili seemed just as intent on her, his hands moving to her breasts, already alert from the chill and his previous attentions. His hand gripped a breast as he kissed her, his thumb moving over the nipple and drawing out a girlish gasp, her back arching into his touch. He grinned into her mouth, and she felt it, pressing her forehead to his as she grinned right back, breathless still. “How are you...?”

“Just...doing what I've always wanted to,” He admitted, more than a little shyly, even as his mouth moved over her throat, just roughly enough to make her moan, teeth grazing the soft flesh there. His fingers moved over her ears, as, bending her legs, she successfully pushed his trousers off with her feet. Kili laughed, softly, kicking them the rest of the way off himself. “I've wanted to touch this skin for so long,” He went on, touching the freckles at her ribs, kissing the ones at her collarbones, making her hands grip at his hips, hard. He drew back, enough to slide one hand between them, into the soft red curls between her legs, sending a shudder all through her. 

Far from looking the part of the lascivious lover, though, his eyes were soft, wondering as this happened, looking at her for guidance, clearly not wanting to undo what he'd just done. Swallowing hard, she slipped a hand over his, guiding his fingers as they moved. His lips were at her torso now, smiling every time she made a noise, a gasp, a little groan, and it only endeared him all the more. Her free hand slipped into his hair, gripping hard when he'd found the right rhythm between her legs. She felt the insistent hardness by her thigh, and grinned, breathless as she did. 

“Kili...” She whispered, gulping, further bewildering him, she knew, with her responses, “You can...I'd very much like to...” The elf found herself stammering. ...All right, so perhaps they were both clueless children, here. He smiled, though, moving up to kiss her one more time, burying his face in her hair and inhaling deeply. 

“Me too,” Was all he murmured, sliding back, and suddenly her right leg was over his shoulder and he was pushing into her, swiftly, as if afraid he'd lose his nerve. Far from uncomfortable, the elf found herself gasping, clutching at their mixed up bedding with both hands. He moved, and the most lovely, wonderful thing started curling inside of her, a smile bubbling up on her lips. Propping herself up on her elbows, she looked on him with a tousled, wondering expressing, her hair all in her face, and it only seemed to encourage him, that boyish grin gone rough and undone as he moved.

Kili murmured something in Khuzdul, as she began rolling her hips in time with his. Oh, it was even better. Tauriel rose, slinging her arms around his shoulders as she moved, pressing his face to her chest. He groaned, kissing her there all over again, her long hair surrounding the two of them as they rocked into each other. She came, gasping around him as she did, ducking her head down onto his shoulder. He followed not far behind, breathing those same foreign words against her flesh as he thrust deep inside of her, filling her, sending her back against the blankets with a groan.

The chill very kindly reminded them that it was still present. Shuddering both with the cold and her wrecked nerves, Tauriel burrowed close to Kili's side, bringing her blankets along with her. Oh, how fine he looked after, that chest, those shoulders, so strong and steady even as he was trying to recapture his breath. He reached for her face, sliding both hands into her messy mane of hair and kissing her, while she hovered over him, bundling them both up, “Mahal, do I love you,” He whispered, kissing her again and again. She stilled him only for a moment, and only to whisper it back.

“And I, you,” She breathed, and he was covering her with kisses again, playing her tingling flesh with his mouth, all over. Tauriel grinned, little, gasping laughs leaving her as his lips traced his devotion all across his skin. No, there was surely no coming back from this...

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	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Two brothers on the same, very different morning, ahem. A short chapter, before certain people need to start behaving like badass grownups again.

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“You should be resting, lad,” Balin's voice was warm even as he was halfway scolding him, clucking his tongue as Fili left his chambers. Fili knew he still looked pale, knew that walking too much more often than not left him winded. And yet, there was so much to be done, so much left to be said to his people. And he couldn't be left idle anymore, especially without his brother present to bolster his spirits. Thus, though it was with an amount of pain still, Fili pulled on his proper clothes and made his way through Erebor's walkways, toward the receiving hall, where he planned to remain for much of the day.

“Too much has fallen on you and Dain, Balin,” The young King told his advisor and mentor, taking care with his movements, lifting his chin even as he walked so as to minimize strain to his ribs. Looking the part was important, he knew, what with how young he was. People needed to see a King when he passed. “Directing masons, rationing supplies...but now our kin have begun arriving, and...”

“And knowing that you're busy healing from your wounds, taken defending their beloved Lord, says much and more of you son, you needn't tempt fate!” The older dwarf sighed, shaking his head, though he followed Fili at a matched pace. “...You know,” His voice went fonder, then, and wry, as he knew he'd not really be able to stop him, “For all I knew you had the bearing, the mind for leading, one day?” Fili lofted a brow, and Balin smiled, “I never for a moment thought you'd take so to the...less active, more administrative details, to ruling. Not before age had tempered you, at least.”

“Those were my least favorite of your lessons, aye, the bits about leading armies were much more fun,” Fili smiled back, shrugging a shoulder, trying to keep up his assured gait as a more hollow, aching feeling reared up in his heart. He did sigh, though, knowing there was little that Balin would miss on his face. “...I cannot remain motionless in that bed any longer, seen only by healers.” He murmured, voice low as other dwarves passed, nodding to him with proud glances, “...Without my brother to keep me laughing, keep me occupied, all I can think on is Thorin. Of how, had my blades not failed me...”

“Do not think on such things, my King,” Balin gripped his shoulder, hard, “You and your brother are honoring your Uncle's memory more than you know, right now.” The words were ones he'd heard many times in the last weeks, but they were comforting no less. Fili still would have rather been honoring Thorin on a battlefield somewhere. But as years had passed and Thorin had shown no inkling of finding love as he'd had in Erebor, Fili had grown up knowing that he would be his uncle's heir. He'd only thought that he'd have years and years, before that happened...to know he wasn't mucking it all up yet, well, that was a comfort.

“Your mother will be here soon,” Balin went on, offering Fili an arm as he took the steps up to sit on his throne. Balin set his crown on his King's head, smiling on him proudly, and Fili truly felt it in his soul, for all his pains, both physical and of the spirit. “Your brother will return, and this spot will not feel so lonely, perhaps.”

“You're right, no doubt,” Fili took a deep breath, lifting his chin, settling in for the day, and trying not to envy Kili his open spaces and wild road, too much.

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Tauriel's first thought was that her face was much colder than it rightly should be, while the rest of her was blissfully warm. Also, why was she sleeping with her eyes shut? That had never been her way, when on mission. Shifting just slightly, it came back to her in the space of a moment, as bare skin brushed against bare skin, and then her heart was in her throat. Her shock was only momentary, though, and then the elf was contentedly turning back toward her lover in the grey light of pre-dawn, drawing the blankets up as she nuzzled his chest. His muscles tensed under her, a sleepy, adorable chuckle leaving his lips.

“Hoi, your nose is like ice!” Kili grinned, blearily, wrapping his arms tight around her shoulders. Tauriel let out a little laugh in return, nuzzling under his chin then, kissing the rough hair there. 

“My humblest apologies, my Prince,” She murmured, sounding none too apologetic and she knew it, sliding her hands over his chest and abdomen. She heard his breath catch in his throat, and with only a little flutter of hesitation, the elf began following the path of her fingers with her tongue, down over the muscled planes of his torso.

“Sh-should we be moving, soon...?” He stammered, reaching for her long hair as she moved, not sounding nearly as concerned as he might. Tauriel smiled against his skin, leaving a kiss just above his navel. She really did enjoy exploring thus, mapping their differences, delighting in the strength she could feel under her fingers, under her mouth. Kili was young, certainly, as was she. He was light-hearted and he was merry, drawing out a whole other side of her spirit she'd been unaware of. But he was also a fighter, as she was, and he had the frame of one, of a kind she was unaccustomed to. She would never tire of exploring it, feeling the muscles, so different than her own, the sinew and the roughness and the taste... 

“We've a little time before dawn yet,” Tauriel answered, her voice holding a softness, a slight uncertainty even as she slid her fingers over his hips, her eyes flickering to his. The grin he gave her was just as bewildered, and just as mischievous, and it made her smile, just before moving her mouth lower. 

The groan that she tore from his throat, as his eyes shut and his head fell back against the blankets, hinted to her that she might've done something right. And so she continued. 

 

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	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Much as I love romance and young royal dwarves figuring things out, I'm rather glad this and the next chapter will have plenty of badassery within. The world needs more Kili-And-Tauriel-Killing-Things.

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The storm had passed, the snow had ceased falling, leaving a blanket that hid away the last hints of a morose landscape which would awaken far livelier come spring. Kili emerged from their tent, dressed and well-shielded from the cold. He folded up the canvas carefully, grinning like the biggest fool all the while and not caring all that much if he was. By the boats Tauriel was carefully checking their cargo, making sure it was all well-protected from the splashing of the waves. As he drew near her, Kili noted that she remained kneeling, giving him a soft smile in return. He didn't hesitate this time, going to her, taking her face in his hands and kissing her, his thumbs stroking her ears gently.

“We'll draw near to Esgaroth's new site by evening fall, on this current,” She murmured, as his hands moved, slipping over the braids he'd woven into her long hair earlier, and then tugging her scarf up for her, against the cold, “We shall have to behave ourselves,” She reminded him, and Kili pretended to scoff.

“I am always and ever famously well-behaved!” He maintained, to the elf's amusement, a red brow arching, “...Though, keepin' away from you...” She kissed him once more, slowly and lingering, before rising, sighing with what he was sure was no small amount of regret.

“I assure you, my Prince, the struggle will be mutual,” Tauriel smirked, as she began to push her boat back into the currents.

It was a much finer day to be traversing the Long Lake, though the wind was as chill and icy as ever. Kili knew, as an elf, that Tauriel did not feel the elements as harshly as he did, and even she drew up her cloak, that scarf of green now over her mouth. Kili took regular pauses from his oars to rub his hands together, pulling up his own blue hood and finding himself missing the warm fires of Erebor. Sparsely furnished rooms or not, they were very cozy. He'd been quite warm last night as well, but...

“Have they much shelter from this, near Lake-town?” He called to his companion, as the thought came to him. The elf squinted, her eyes all that he could really see under her cowl. 

“Last I was there, they'd a few common houses raised,” Tauriel told him, shrugging a shoulder then, “They'll have put up more, but they're very much in need of the permanent stonework your people can offer,” She tugged down her scarf, seemingly tasting the cold air, “Foundations, hearths...building out onto the lake will be a cold and damp business, in the winter.”

Kili was quiet for much of the day then, considering this. The people of Laketown, he knew, had been helped out greatly by the elves, and his own people were sending what they could, now. The prince had more than an inkling though, that more would have to follow. This notion seemed confirmed as the day faded, and their boats drew near to the flickering lights along the far shore. The young dwarf let out a gasp before he could contain himself, the lingering sunset casting just enough light to fully make out the far-off wreckage that had once been Esgaroth.

There had seemed so little time to think on it, to truly believe the merry town of Men had been destroyed. Certainly, he and Fili had tried to appeal to Thorin when he refused aid before the Battle, their hearts gone out to the folk who'd sheltered them so kindly. Now, though, the reality of the destruction they'd loosed upon the town hit Kili fully, and he found himself swallowing hard, recalling raucous nights of feasting, music, comfortable beds and kind people. Gone now, many of them, along with their homes, crushed and burnt under Smaug's cursed, submerged carcass.

Voices from the shore woke him back to the world, and glancing over to Tauriel in her boat, he found her gaze was already on him, soft and warm, as if she were aware of his thoughts. He'd no doubt that she was, really. Even if much of what he felt was always on his face, she was watchful. Kili gave her a little smile in return, “I love you,” He told her, quietly, before they were within hearing of Men and Elves. The elf captain smiled back, even as her cool mask was slipping back over her face.

“As I love you, Prince,” She murmured, and then tilted her chin up, waving to her kin on shore, “Are you ready for all this?”

“Nope!” He grinned, “But that's probably for the best.”

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“We've almost beaten back the fevers, though I fear they will return come spring,” Legolas was telling the two of them, escorting Tauriel and Kili through the settlement. The prince had been there long now, acting as another of his father's emissaries, already a somewhat familiar face to the Men of Esgaroth. Tauriel was glad to see him. “Lowlands and all, which is why they're working through the winter on the new town's site out on the water.” 

“Would they not do better to join Bard in Dale?” Tauriel asked in a murmur, her sharp eyes inspecting everything as they passed. Kili was doing the same, she saw, only he was not nearly so skilled at schooling his features as she. His distress was quite apparent, frowning, over all the folk milling about their few structures, the one longhouse quarantined for those still fevered. “The air is far better high on the mountain, and they've sturdy walls against the winds and snows there, even amongst the ruins...”

“Our people have somewhat convinced them of this, they are sending many of their women and children there soon, at least, and yet...” Her friend shrugged, as they paused outside the second-largest wooden house, “More than half of the Men will remain. They are Lake-folk, they maintain, with good trade and traditions here. Dale will grow as word of Bard spreads, they say, but only Esgaroth can rebuild Esgaroth.”

“That is admirable,” Kili murmured, still frowning and thoughtful. Legolas dipped his head once, and Tauriel regarded her friend closely for the first time, smiling faintly.

“You've a different sort of bearing about you,” She told him, “Tending to hurting folk agrees with you.”

“They are just...so very mortal, and breakable,” Was all Legolas would say, then. Tauriel was sure she'd hear more later. For now, he turned to the young Dwarf Prince with a polite smirk, resting a hand on the doors into the rough, hastily-raised wooden hall, “Now, for all folk here are Lake-Men, they've much more trust in Bard than their own town Master right now, and Bard has faith in your people. Alas, Bard is not here,” Legolas looked just slightly harried by this, “You are stuck treating with The Master, and he may yet give you all manner of back-handed compliments on your aid, and barely-veiled guilt trips over Smaug. Yet I assure you, were it not for his pride he'd be up the mountain, begging at your brother's seat himself.”

“By my honor, he needn't beg for anything, my brother and I have guilt enough over all this,” Kili took a deep breath, before stepping inside, and Tauriel couldn't help but smile a little after him. The state of the Lake-folk had shaken him, appealed to his honor without a word, and this could only mean good things for the relationship between Esgaroth and Erebor. Indeed, he approached the Master's seat with confidence, and while there had been a few side-long glances from the people since they'd moored their boats, overall Kili's reception looked to be warm.

He really was the best ambassador his brother could have sent, Tauriel realized, she and Legolas remaining just inside of the communal house to watch the exchange. Folk of the town remembered the two merry, engaging youngest Dwarves of Thorin's Company most fondly of all. The supplies they'd brought were carefully parceled out...medicine, more gold, food stores from the Iron Hills and masonry tools awaiting their owners who were coming around the lake. Kili spoke easily and honestly with the Master, about his brother's intentions and giving further aid, and enforcing the idea of Dale as a safe refuge from the elements while they rebuilt.

“Royalty does not look half-bad on that one. For a dwarf, anyway,” Legolas noted mildly, and Tauriel smirked.

“It suits him far better than he expected it to, at least,” She murmured back softly, affectionately, earning herself a rather searching glance in return. And then Legolas suddenly bit his lip, brow furrowing as the conversation before them took a turn.

“Ah, I forgot to mention the orc problem to him,” He cleared his throat, as Tauriel's eyes went wide, her turn to give her friend a sharp look. Legolas winced, “Right, well, no doubt our pompous ally will get right into it...”

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“Orcs? Still? Here?!” Kili blinked where he stood before the Master's seat, wondering if he'd heard correctly. The Man nodded, though, sneezing fretfully into a much-abused handkerchief. He put Kili in mind of a bigger, more self-important Bilbo Baggins, before he'd set out with their company. But no, even then, Bilbo had been likable. 

“A nasty business,” The Master went on, someone setting a hot meal at his side. Absently, and with a glance around the room, Kili noted that the Man was the only person, of the few milling about the warm, albeit drafty building, who was eating at the moment. The blankets on his seat looked quite comfortable as well, and for all he had a sniffle, his color was good. It wasn't an obscene or obvious elevation of comfort, but The Master of Laketown was certainly keeping himself warmer and better fed than either Bard or Kili's own brother, up on the Mountain. And Fili was a proper King. An injured one, at that. 

“Your war may have wiped out much of that army,” The Master's voice broke him out of his observations, and Kili tried his best to school the frown from his face, trying to remember how well Tauriel could do it. He wasn't nearly as good, “But those goblins and orcs who managed to live are now scattered like so many greedy carrion birds and beasts! They've picked at what livestock we still have, after having to sleep in our own barns, and in the past days they've grown bolder, people have been attacked...”

“We think those that slunk away to caves and hovels may be gathering,” The Elf Prince stepped in then, “However, they -seem- to be heading further into the woods, toward my father's realm.” He added, with a pointed look to the Master.

“Even so,” The Master glared right back, “You have your people's safety to think on, I have mine, and the filth have been spotted almost nightly!” That seemed true enough, as the elf had little to say back. Kili sighed, reaching up and rubbing his face. 

“...I can send word back to my brother, see if he might spare some folk to guard yours...” He paused, biting his lip. He'd been prepared for much of this exchange, but not for the orcs. A glance to Tauriel told him this was news to her as well. Kili's frown deepened, thinking. What had Balin always taught them? A lot of things, actually, most of them he'd, admittedly, forgotten. Something did come to mind then, though, some lesson about unexpected difficulties. 'Sometimes, lads, even a prince will be out of his depth!' The old dwarf would say when they were little, 'Best thing to do then, is go with your gut, go your strengths.'

Well, Kili might not know a lot of things, but he definitely knew his strengths.

“...Prince, how many of your kin here are fighters?” He asked of the blonde elf, mustering himself, hoping he sounded older, better-suited to this role. Legolas tilted his head.

“They are mostly healers, but there are a few soldiers among them, and myself and my Captain here.”

“And healthy Lake-Men, surely there are plenty?” Kili looked to The Master, who looked taken aback.

“Well, yes, but,” He cleared his throat, “They're needed for the rebuilding...”

“Well sure, but I bet they'd like their flocks and families kept safe as much as you would!” He gave the Man his best smile, wide and merry, but there was a definite edge to it, a sharpness in his dark eyes, and The Master did not seem to miss it. Kili turned to Tauriel, whom, he was pleased to see, looked more than impressed, though not at all surprised by his nerve. “Let's gather folk together, tonight, and have a good routing-out in the woods!” 

Foolhardly? Likely, but the smirk she sent him was worth it. Neither of them had had a good fight in far too long. Kili knew, that for all their respective worlds demanded much of them (young though they were), a fight was still the thing that they each most understood their roles in, their purpose in. “A most excellent course of action, Prince.” Tauriel said over the Master's sputtering, dipping her head, fingers almost gleefully twitching at her knives. 

Yes, Kili grinned, certainly worth it.

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	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Back from Orlando! I enjoyed writing this bit. Also, I met Merida last week. Be jealous.

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“This love, it is a burning sun...”

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She ran her fingers over her arrows, as if greeting old friends, stroking a faithful pet. 

In spite of his youth, Kili had been very successful in gathering up a force to route out the woods. All of the elves with proficiency had practically jumped at the chance, while the weary Lake-Men had only needed to know that it was a concentrated effort before grabbing their swords, axes and bows. It was as if the hard work of rebuilding their ruined homes, of battling sickness and fevers, had worn on all spirits, short-sighting their goals. It only took one young, reckless, and yet engaging and charismatic dwarf prince to rouse them, and Tauriel knew that none gathered there would soon forget him, or, by extension, his brother.

“Why not wait until daylight, catch 'em sleeping?” One of the Lake-men asked as they mustered in the darkness, hefting a blade in a steady hand. From the voice, Tauriel would bet good coin on it actually being a woman in a man's garb, and sent her a smirk. “Why go in for a fight now?”

“They won't be expecting it, as they approach your livestock and sleeping families, and we'll save ourselves a search through fern and fen for their hiding places,” Kili answered, checking his own bow-string, loosing his sword in its scabbard, “The moon is full, yet even without it, the elves would spot them first,” He grinned Tauriel's way, and she could not help but grin back, mischievous and excited. “We'll do well this night, following their sharp gaze.”

 

And indeed they did. The elves combed the forest first, slipping almost silently, a whisper through the trees. This, Tauriel knew well. Stalking, her feet hardly leaving a dent in the fauna as her sharp eyes took in her surroundings, peering into the deep places under the moonlight. A slight movement ahead, a reflection of pale light on twisted, rough flesh, and the Captain had an arrow loosed into the brush, a shriek of pain swiftly following. With a wide, feral smile, Tauriel reveled in the near-chaos that followed, foul bodies rising from the forest to meet their attack.

Many an elf she'd known, loved and defended her home beside had died before the gates of Erebor, after all. She'd borne it very well in the time following the battle, setting her mind to the things that must be done. Yet when the stragglers rose from the forest and rushed toward the assembled force of men and elves and one very enthused Dwarf, Tauriel went at the orcs and goblins with a vicious, unbridled relish. She no longer cared who saw her vengeful heart, and her blades found flesh greedily, tearing the foul creatures apart as she sang out her peoples' war cries.

It was no surprise that she, Kili and Legolas found themselves close together after a time, the two men she so loved now sending a volley of arrows into the brush to cover her attacks. Tauriel found her blades put to more use than her trusted bow, but found that she liked it. She'd been itching for a more satisfying fight, and this skirmish sated that desire. 

They moved in perfect harmony as well, or so it seemed. Kili wasn't as sure a shot as Legolas, but he was quick, and while every shot mightn't have been a killing blow, they all found flesh, most times cruelly. Tauriel felt her blood rise and sing in her veins as she moved, flowing through the wood with her long knives singing, twisting, tearing skin and muscle and sinew and bone. She sang as well, sometimes sweet words leaving her lips, sometimes in a growl to do a wolf proud, wrenching her blades out of carcasses, tossing her head in the night.

Once the stragglers had finally had enough and began to flee, from elven blades and the battle cries of Men, Tauriel nearly followed, that primal light still in her green eyes. A hand caught her elbow, though, and seeing that it was Kili, looking on her with a mixture of awe, trepidation, and the glee that only came from a good and proper fight, she relaxed. She gave him a reassuring smile, sheathing her knives and returning her bow to her back. “Well,” The elf noted, lightly enough, glancing about. “...That was effective.”

Kili's laugh rang through the wood, as dawn began to light on the trees. 

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Among the corpses of Orcs and goblins there were only a few wounds to the Men and Elves, and only a very few of those were grave. The folk all started up loud praise for the young dwarf prince and his reckless, yet timely assault. Tauriel beheld many clasping Kili's shoulders, hands, thanking him for arranging such a routing, and she saw the new vigor such a fight had roused in the Lake-men. Even Legolas was impressed, voicing his approval on their weary, yet high-spirited return to the settlement. 

“A proper leader, that one, though he may yet not know it,” Her friend nudged her, as Tauriel knelt by the lake, scrubbing the gore and foul blood from her hands, hair, and weapons with sand and cool water. His smirk was wide, “I can see why he's caught your attention.” 

“Mind yourself,” She shot him a glare, though there wasn't much venom to it. She was too pleased to pretend to correct him, as Legolas slipped off to catch some sleep with a knowing wink. Ugh...she would deal with that later. Her arrows and blades clean, face pleasantly stinging from the cold water, Tauriel thought it not a bad idea to take some rest, her own natural stamina notwithstanding. 

The fight drew something out of her that was not merely physical, not simply a tiredness of the limbs or mind. She put something of her spirit into a proper fight, as some of her folk put their hearts into their crafts or songs, or the telling of stories. Battle was Tauriel's craft and gift to the world, and when performed well, she gave of herself utterly, some would say blindly. So she needed to rest, to recapture her strength after plying her craft. 

She moved toward the tents the elves had raised for themselves, chuckling a little as she passed Kili, speaking with The Master. “Of course, this means we'll have lost a day of work while the men catch their sleep...” She caught the Man saying, dabbing at his nose. Kili caught her eye, and she gave him a grin and a roll of the eyes. 

It wasn't long before she had her own tent raised, stripping down and changing into clean clothes for the first time in days. As she settled back against her bedroll, a soft footfall sounded outside, a familiar figure slipping in beside her. Tauriel smiled, softly, though she cast a furtive glance outside. Kili just shook his head, “I was mindful, no one saw me,” He assured her, shrugging off his cloak and duster. Tauriel's smile relaxed again.

“Have you not had proper lodgings offered to you, my prince?” She asked, her voice only a little teasing. She'd hoped to see him, to have him near after the skirmish, even if she was weary. The dwarf looked tired as well. Kili nodded, still smirking at her through his somewhat damp hair (so he'd spared a moment to wash also) as he kicked off his boots and moved toward her.

“The Master offered, I refused,” He shrugged, brushing a hand over her jawline as she lay, fingers warm on her skin, “Told 'im there was plenty of his own sickly folk who needed warm beds, I'd be fine lodgin' with the Elves.”

“That'll stick in their memories,” Tauriel smiled, reaching up and covering his hand with hers, “The prince who'd rather lodge with his former enemies...”

“I meant it, though,” Kili maintained, only a little defensive. Tauriel tugged him forward,

“I know you did,” She yawned, “It will be remembered no less, though...you make a much better picture of a prince than you know, is all, so damnably good and honest.” She ran a hand through his wet hair fondly, making him smile right back at her, sheepishly. 

“You were incredible, this night,” He told her right back, softly, moving to lay beside her. Tauriel drew him to rest his head upon her chest, drawing clean, warm blankets up over them both. His fingers moved over the embroidery on her new tunic, that awed tone returning, “The way you move in battle is so swift, so smooth...all your people move that way I suppose, but you...” He looked up at her, grinning, that fire in his eyes that she knew so well, even as they were both spent. The fire of a fighter, “You make it beautiful.”

“Only because you're infatuated,” She replied, lightly, but did not try to hide her pleased expression. “...We fight well together, my Prince.” Tauriel murmured, tracing his brow with her long, clever fingers. Kili caught them in his own, bringing the digits to his lips.

“Here's hopin' we do plenty of it in the future, aye?”

“Aye...” She whispered. He scooted further up, drawing her to rest her own head on his shoulder, arms winding around one another. Until midday, Tauriel enjoyed the indulgence of true, rejuvenating sleep, her spirit calming after a fight as it never had before. It was him, she knew, being wrapped up close to her foolhardy prince. And oh, how she loved it.

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	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Meanwhile, back in a Middle Earth where people are actually thinking long-term and rationally...some Dis! And awkward!Fili.

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The sun was bright on the river Anduin, and a crisp breeze was rising up to fill their sails. It had seemed many weeks that Dis had been on this river, though truly, it had been a string of rivers, roads, and for a short time the sea. Her eldest son would not hear of her party taking the same road Thorin's Company had, despite the many others of their kin who were now beating it flat under their many boots. Dis hadn't argued with Fili's message, however. She was a King's mother, her days of ordering him about as a young boy were over, even as her status became elevated, as it had been in her childhood, as a princess of Erebor.

Pushing back her travel-stained hood, Dis glanced back at the large party escorting her, and indeed the many other dwarf women with her. Even to her eye, it was difficult to tell the sexes apart when dwarves traveled, as was their way, in shapeless cloaks, trousers, boots, and with weapons strapped to the back. She knew the young lass approaching her, though, when the girl came close, her curly blonde hair bright under the sun. “Mari,” Dis nodded her head, turning back toward the waters. 

“My Lady,” The girl adopted a rough bow, adjusting the axe at her hip as she did. Dis smirked to herself. Mari was far more used to the latter than the former. There was a hesitant pause, before the girl was joining her at the rail, and then, “I, I don't suppose ye've yet heard back from...”

“No, not yet, I'd be surprised if the thrush had made it even t' Erebor already,” Dis' smile widened. “Rest assured lass, when I hear from m'son, ye'll be the first I tell.”

“Oi, course, sorry for troublin' ye My Lady...” 

Dis shook her head, squeezing the girl's arm, “You don't trouble me, Mari,” She winked, “S'why I suggested ye.” That left both women with a smile, as Mari rejoined other guards milling about the decks, a pleased flush in her round cheeks, under a fair-colored beard. Dis sighed...it was nice, having cause to smile, having other women about her in this way. Their people's women tended to be kept close to home, herself included, though growing up nomadic as she did, Dis had long-missed the closeness that happened while traveling, surviving together. A great host of orcs and goblins had been slaughtered or frightened back into their holes, and so their road was perhaps somewhat safer, but even so...

The laughing with other women, other mothers, sisters and daughters, tending axes and swords together, cooking meals on the road for the men with them, eying the young lasses out and picking one that her son might approve of, all this was lightening Dis' spirits. For sure, and she'd been very proud to know that Fili sat the throne of Erebor, that he and Kili had defended their uncle as best they could. Still, she'd felt the loss of Thorin like a wound to the heart, even before word had reached her. 

Her father, grandfather, her brother Frerin, her husband, all these she'd lost, but Thorin had remained. Her Lord, her brother, the man who'd helped raise her children, who found them all a home when they were in a strange land. She could not much remember Erebor. She'd had Thorin, though, who'd been more home to her than any promise of a great palace, a mountain thick with wealth, could ever have been. He was gone now, winning it back for her, for her boys, for their people. It was a good death, and he'd not have wanted her to mourn long. 

Dis had never been very good at listening to her big brother.

The mantle of sorrow was lightening anyway, of course. Taking a deep breath of the chill, wintery air, Dis could not help but feel excitement. She would be with her boys soon, and fates willing, it would be for a time of long peace, in a home hard-won. Perhaps, she mused, thinking on a certain warrior who no doubt still waited on her there, she'd even have a bit of happiness all to herself again...

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The beating of the thrush's wings barely registered, as it made a hasty retreat to it's people's nesting places in the Lonely Mountain. Fili was still rubbing his fingers into his eye-sockets, as a healer braced his ribs anew, and Balin and Dwalin were chuckling heartily over his mother's message nearby. 

“So she's picked you out a wife, then!” The old advisor gave his beard a tug in amusement, seated by the fireplace in the young King's room. 

“Gloin's wife's wee cousin, if I'm rememberin' right,” Dwalin grinned, leaning on the hearth, “Last I spied her she was knee-high, but then, wasn't long ago the you were either, lad!” Fili groaned, and only half in pain.

“She never made a fuss of Kili and I gettin' married off before,” He grumbled, as the elf tucked in his wrappings, “Fact as I recall it, she swatted at us fer even lookin' at lasses, and said she'd keep at it til we were past a hundred.”And oh, how his mother would be swatting Kili for what had turned -his- head of late...

“Mmm, that was before you became a King,” Balin's voice tapered back into that of his old teacher, then, kinder and more patient. That gave Fili pause, and then he sighed, nodding, remembering his lessons. Marriage really wasn't pressed on young people in their culture, lads or lasses, with one exception: When they were ruling lords and kings. Otherwise, they were free to find love...or not find it, as was often the case...whenever they wished. 

“Your mother married and lost your father young, as Thorin lost his lass from childhood young. That is why they warned you and your brother away from making hasty attachments,” Balin went on, reminding him, and Fili nodded. Dwalin, meanwhile, turned to look thoughtfully into the flames, “However, now you -are- a King, and the Line of Durin must continue,” Balin's gaze became more pointed, “Thorin would take no wife after Jera, and so left no sons, and thus you find yourself very young, and expected to rule. Would you have the same for another? Little brothers your mother may yet have, or nephews Kili might give you? Kili, who will no doubt have many years before settling, if he ever does? Or would you have it fall to your own son, when you pass at a great age, and he is full grown and renowned?” 

Fili let out a long sigh, nodding at all of this. Of course Balin spoke wisdom, and of course this was all a very unusual situation, with unusual solutions. As his healer moved away and Fili gingerly tugged back on his tunic over his wounds, Dwalin approached, resting a hand on his shoulder, “Just so, yer mother is just tryin' to ease yer burdens, in 'er way,” The older dwarf smiled, “Say ye'll meet whatever lass she's picked, no need t'make promises. Just cause yer expected to marry soon, doesnae mean it needs t'happen -now-.”

“Nor in a year, nor two, just soon,” Balin rose, cracking his back with a relish, “...I know you'd rather be off with your brother right now. Fightin' off goblins and tendin' to needy folk, not bogged down with such cares...”

“You know me very well, friend,” Fili managed a smile. Balin returned it.

“I promise you lad, once you've healed, bein' a King won't seem such a dull burden.”

“It's a burden I always knew might be mine, at least,” Fili pushed himself up, carefully, accepting Dwalin's help in putting on his cloak. “...Send mother back my love and...tell her I trust her intuition,” He tried not to wince too hard at that last bit. Balin chuckled.

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	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Things get ever more interesting! (I hope...)

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Though far away, though far away, though far away  
We're still the same, we're still the same, we're still the same...

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The stone masons arrived some days after the routing out of the forest. They found their prince out in the mud of the Long Lake alongside the Men of Esgaroth, helping to pound in stout boards and piles for foundations. He wore rough, borrowed work clothes, kept his hair tied back, and hardly looked a prince. Yet dwarves and Men alike had much to say of the lad, all of it good. Certainly this hadn't been Kili's aim at all, though he did know that it could only reflect well on his big brother up on the mountain. Honestly, he just couldn't sit idle and watch others do such work. Kili might have been just one more pair of strong arms, but it counted and was the least he felt he could do, after all that they'd suffered. 

Plus, it meant he didn't have to suffer through the Master's company any more than was absolutely necessary. 

His kinsmen began hauling in great stone slabs to set into the waiting foundations that would become the new Esgaroth, and Kili took a welcomed break. He found, to his surprise, that Bard was waiting for him on the shore, having come along with the smiths from Dale. The Man smiled, a rare thing for the serious leader, clasping shoulders with Kili warmly. “The dwarf of the hour!” Bard exclaimed, and Kili shrugged, wiping mud from his face with the sleeve of his somewhat-too-big work shirt. “The people will not cease their praise of you, Prince.”

“Eh, probably 'cause I look a fool out there,” Kili grinned wide, “I'd not thought to see you here, Dragon-slayer! Haven't you a city to be rebuilding?”

“These are my people as well,” Bard shrugged, as the dwarf moved to the cleaner water, to wash his face and hands, “I'd have them know I still look out for them, as you do, I imagine. Also, I carry messages from your kin, your brother, and would happily carry more back.”

“S'kind of you!” Kili reached for the cloak he'd left on the shore, drying off, “I'm headin' back soon myself, though, now that our masons have arrived.” Indeed, the dwarves were barely stopping to rest, already enthused to be setting to their stones, surprised that the folk around them were welcoming, cheering their arrival, even. “I've done what I can here, I think...”

“Much more than you realize,” Bard assured him, walking with Kili among the tents and houses, people waving as they passed. “I've spoken to the Master, all he does is complain about you as his folk praise you and your brother's kindness, that is testimony enough,” Kili had to grin at that. 

“Gods will I be glad to be well-shot of his grumbling,” He replied, brightly. Bard actually chuckled.

“I'd had years of it, I understand. Perhaps we might share the road home...” Bard trailed off then, as they passed one of the long-houses. The doors were thrown open to let in the noon-day warmth and fresh air, and Kili spied Tauriel tending the few fevered folk who remained within. She gave him a brief smile, innocent to the passing gaze, but he knew better, giving her a grin and a wink right back. “Will ah, the Elvenprince and the Captain be returning with you?” Bard's voice registered, and Kili shook his head.

“No, the Elvenking is callin' them back to the forest for a time. Orc stragglers on their borders...” Kili tried to keep his tone light. He was getting better at it, he though, shielding emotions. He was so very used to letting them show all over his face, most dwarves were. Most dwarves didn't have this sort of secret to hide, though. “Still! They've promise to be back our way come spring, talkin' the trade routes and helpin' to plant up Dale...they'll not be back this winter, though.”

“A pity.” The words dropped from Bard's mouth unbidden, Kili caught in his tone, suddenly looking full at the taller man, and how his eyes lingered on the open longhouse. Tauriel was looking up again, lofting a curious brow with her smile this time, the sun bright on her long hair. Bard looked away sharply, pressing his lips together. Yes, Kili knew that look very well. “...Knowing our allies better has been...eye-opening.”

“...Aye,” Kili sucked in a deep breath, forcing a smirk, nudging the Man, possibly a bit harder than strictly necessary, “Oi though, let's scrub off some grime before we've got to mingle with 'em more!”

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She'd told him about Thranduil's summons in the blue light of dawn that morning, her fingers sliding through his hair. Legolas had told her that evening, but she hadn't told her lover, not until they were moving against each other, into each other. She'd known there was some cowardice to that choice, truly, but the thought of leaving him long before she'd thought she would was rough on her mind. Tauriel had understood that she'd be listening in on his people's doing for weeks yet. But of course, she would go and defend her people's kingdom, relished the thought, even. Leaving him so soon, however...

“We'll see each other in the spring,” She'd whispered against his skin, gasping, shutting her eyes as he'd groaned into her, clutched her close. Tauriel sighed, pressing kisses into his hair, his neck, her breath hitching as his hands moved over her ribs, her hips, “...Valar, I will miss you so,” She groaned back, clutching him close. The very thought, of months apart, somewhat undid her. He'd taken it well in turn, though, murmuring sweet things into her long hair even as she'd felt him shudder.

“A season, some months, what are those t'either of our folk, aye?” He'd said, bravely, giving her that reckless grin of his, the one that both exasperated and endeared him to her. It had roused her anew, and they'd found themselves clutching at each other tighter, making love again, until it was nearly full-dawn and ever riskier to be seen together. 

And oh, how she lost herself in it, in the way he mapped her, traced her flesh under his fingers, his tongue, his touch. She did the same, trying to even keep up with his enthusiasm, committing muscle, scars, scruffy jaw, calloused fingers and thready breaths to memory. It was still new, and yet it was primal, known in the blood, all a part of this thing both of them had longed for without knowing it. She held him close as the daylight persisted, sighing deeply, swallowing hard.

“I love you,” She'd whispered for the umpteenth time as they dressed. She and her party would leave in the twilight of that day, the better to scare up the stragglers on their way. There'd be no time or privacy for a proper farewell between lovers, and so Tauriel said it now, in her tent on the banks of the new town, “And I tell you, the notion will only grow, for me...”

Kili had smiled, then, moving to braid her hair, as he'd taken to doing every morning since they'd come together. Tradition among his folk, as he explained it to her. This time, though, Tauriel felt a new weight in her long locks, catching her breath, “I love you the same,” He told her, twisting the strands together, “And so I...I give y'these...I've had 'em since we first took back Erebor, thinkin', maybe...someday...” Tauriel brought her braids forward, grinning at the wee golden beads, curled dragon whelps with emeralds set in their eyes. 

“You do me an honor, my prince...” She'd whispered, turning, kissing him soundly, arms tight around his neck. Whatever their farewell was that night, Tauriel knew it would at least be a steady thing, after this.

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It was curious to her then, that when they had their last dinner all together that evening after the masons and Men of Dale had arrived, Kili seemed somewhat distant. It didn't take the sharp elf long to figure out why...or rather, it did not take Legolas long, her prince and long-time friend giving her a nudge over their stew.

“Bard's eyes have hardly left you since we arrived,” he murmured side-long at her, smirking around his wine, “I'd thought such a thing might be brewing, just before Smaug fell, but to see it so clearly upon his face...” 

“Let us hope for his sake it is merely passing, nothing more.” Tauriel murmured back swiftly, both of them adopting tones only a sharp elven ear would catch. Legolas tilted his chin just so, looking on her now. His gaze was steady, and curious, and she met it with a raised brow. Legolas smiled, reaching out and tugging one of her adorned braids lightly.

“There are many conversations we've yet to have, I think,” He went on, tone gone back to normal as the Master addressed a query their way. Tauriel let him answer, too caught once more on how much wiser, knowing her Prince had seemed since being posted there. Yes, they had much to speak about, and the Captain was fair certain that she could, perhaps, share things with her friend that she likely wouldn't have thought to in the past.

“We can have some on the road home, then,” She allowed, earning herself a brief smile, as Legolas found himself assuring the Master that the elves' aid would remain steady, supplies still sent. Tauriel chose that moment to chance a look across the rough table, catching Kili's eye with an assuring little smile. Despite his earlier expression, his smile back was quick this time, tempting fate, and oh how it made her heart turn over in her chest with a sudden, familiar ache. 

Fine as she was at schooling her own features, as dinner ended and the elves rose to go, Tauriel's mask slipped more than once. Kili managed to clasp her hand tightly for a quick moment, standing shielded by her horse in the fading light, before they actually had farewells to say.

“You will both be missed,” Bard said what The Master would not, and Tauriel knew he spoke for the people even without having been present, at least in regards to Legolas. The people of Laketown would miss both Princes, who'd shown the best of their respective races to suffering Esgaroth. The Man's gaze did linger on her, though, she could not deny it. And while she'd not be outright dismissive, her embrace to him was kind, but swift. 

“Send our King's regards to your brother,” She told Kili, steadily enough. 

“Of course, Captain,” He dipped his head, giving her that boyish smirk she loved, “Til spring, then?” He tried, and failed to sound resigned. Tauriel smirked back. 

“Spring, that's a promise.” She swung up onto her horse, Legolas reining up beside her. “Farewell, Lord, Prince...” 

Hooves beat out a swift departure on the pebbly shore, and other voices along the river called out goodbyes, most directed at Legolas. Willing herself not to glance behind her, Tauriel ducked her head into her cowl and hurried her mount on, loosing her knives in their sheaths and gladly setting her mind to what must be done in the forest.

It was only until springtime, after all. Yet somehow, Tauriel knew that no winter would ever pass so slowly. 

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	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mmmm, dwarves.

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I sit alone in this winter clarity which clouds my mind...

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“Oi! GERROFF!” Kili exclaimed from the snowy ground outside of Dale, to which he'd just been tackled by the King of Erebor. Above, he could hear Bard and Balin chuckling which, there went more of his pride. “Don'tchya have wounds that are still healin'?!” Fili laughed at that, long and loud.

“Yep, hurt like a blasted battering ram just now,” His brother winced, rising carefully, pressing a hand to his ribs. Fili was still grinning, though, as Kili jumped back up, brushing snow from his coat and hood, “Still worth it!” 

“Behold!” Balin sighed, “My King and my Prince, dignity personified.”

“Aye, and he was merry company on the road,” Bard added warmly, clapping Kili's shoulder once Fili had released him. “And a prince Esgaroth won't soon forget. I take my leave though, my people await word from those they care for on the lake...” He left with a bow to the King, and Kili felt a pang at seeing him go. For so serious a Man, they really had been friendly on the journey home. Kili was finding humans to be quite fine company all 'round, they smoked good tobacco and they told good tales, were free with their history and ways. 

There were times when the Lord of Dale would ask after the Captain of Mirkwood, though, and Kili would find himself wishing to hurry along the miles. Not that he, or Bard, he wagered, thought much would become of the passing interest. Elves caught the eyes of Men all the time, after all (shared appreciation for bare faces on the women, perhaps). It was just very, very difficult to make himself seem nonplussed, amused even, at the notion, and Bard did have his famed, sharp eye. He seemed to have found nothing out of the ordinary in the responses Kili had managed to give, at least. 

“You got my messages, then?” He shook himself, addressing his brother and Balin as they walked close together, up toward the gates of Erebor. Fili nodded, and Kili saw that he was still taking his steps slowly, and with care. His older brother looked a far better color, though, and had put back on the weight his wound had stolen from him since Kili had left.

“Aye, I've sent some armed folk to keep an eye on the Lake shores, as Bard has promised to as well,” Fili replied, grinning, “Though, as I hear it, you may've chased off whatever foul creatures lurked by their settlement for good!”

“I and others, s'all,” Kili shrugged, but could not hide his wide grin, “Ah, you'd have enjoyed that fight, brother.”

“Y'can tell me all about it yourself, in detail, I was sore to miss it,” Fili sighed, and for the first time Kili beheld how restless being cooped up was making his brother, it was all over his face. He smirked, giving Fili a nudge. 

“Next fight, y'll be in the thick of, I promise you!”

“Best not let your mother hear you promising as much,” Balin piped up, smiling bemusedly as both brothers winced. “Or at least, hope a good skirmish happens before she's present to notice. She'll be here within a fortnight, though, so...unlikely.”

“A champion killjoy you are, Balin.” Kili chuckled, still surprised that the guards at the gate bowed low to them, as they passed under the repaired gates and into the halls. “I hear she's got my future sister along with her, eh?” Fili scrubbed a hand over his face and beard.

“...Possibly.”

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The palace had been much transformed, even in the two weeks Kili had been gone. Dwarves hated few things as much as they hated idleness, and the returning craftsmen of Erebor had been anything but. Tables, chairs, beds, cupboards, wardrobes, shelves and more filled out the previously-gutted rooms, made of both stone and wood. Textiles would come later, many of them with his mother's party. As it was there were still plenty of fine blankets, cushions and things for clothes arriving from the Iron Hills, and spring would see flax and cotton planted, silk coming up the trade routes. And of course, the forges had all been fired up and ringing merrily from day one after the Battle.

For all he'd been raised in a settled Dwarf community all of his life, Kili had never beheld such a great, working city of his people, and this was only with a small portion of his folk yet returned there. He was not alone in his wonder, as others of his Company had been raised in the West as well. 

“Oi, Prince!” He looked up, startled as Bofur addressed him as such, one morning in the wide, winding stone streets, poking his fine tunic before adopting a bow, “Good t'see ye back an' in one piece!”

“Bofur! How're you and your kin settling in?!” Kili embraced him warmly, and the toymaker shrugged, trying and failing to play off his glee.

“Oi, quite well, quite well...” He waved a hand, a twinkle in his eye, “There's plenty gadgets and odds and ends what need fixin'! And ah, how th' families are comin' in!” He sighed happily, “Once this city's knobs and bobs and valves are all in workin' order, I'll be settin' up shop in no time, I expect...Bifur's a help. Bombur, though...!”

“I've heard!” Kili laughed, “My brother took 'im on at the palace and now there's no curin' 'is airs!” It was true. Fili had, at others' insistence, been pressured into staffing his new home. Fili was a fighter, and so the cringe-worthy task of dictating who cleaned up after him and such, was one he left to Balin. When it came to the food and stretching their stores for the winter, though, the choice had been clear and he'd voiced it loudly. Bombur now ruled and lorded over the royal kitchens, and many more in the growing halls besides. He chiefly spent his days painstakingly describing how to make dried and salted things into sumptuous meals to others, and of course, sleeping. The large dwarf couldn't have asked for a more pleasant life.

“Aye, y'couldn't have made a Dwarf happier there, lad.” Bofur patted his shoulder, moving on to fix the next in a row of long-rusted hinged at the great forges, whistling pleasantly as he did. Kili grinned wide, walking on. Plenty were treating he and his brother both as kings of late, as they should, he supposed. Yet while the respect remained, Thorin's original Company still treated them as lads, and far from being annoyed by that, as he'd sometimes been on their long road, Kili now welcomed it. It returned a certain balance and familiarity to his still-reeling mind.

And oh, how he found himself needing it, as the days passed far too slowly. Fili grew stronger, spent more time out of doors to stretch his healing lungs, and that was heartening. Kili kept his own pains to himself in their new home, which did not seem so difficult. Plenty, even those closest to them, such as Balin and Dwalin, quickly dismissed his listless wanderings as simply aching to be off, fighting and industrious, as was usual for his age. And while those things were somewhat on his mind, they were hardly the true cause of his restless melancholy. 

Snow fell outside, and his home grew warmer, brighter inside, yet Kili felt a fierce and jealous longing in his heart that wouldn't ease. Something also quite usual for a young dwarf, but it was not for gold, craft or battle (well...mostly it wasn't for battle) that he pined. It was for the pretty lass and fearsome soldier far from The Lonely Mountain, off serving her king in the dark woods. Tauriel filled his head, swam in his blood, and being alone during the nights, in a soft bed fit for a prince and whomever else he might fancy to take with him, only made it worse. 

There was only so much he could do for himself, of course, and even that didn't always bring him untroubled sleep. Kili missed all of her, her slender fingers, long hair, her flowing, yet strong voice as they spoke both of things close to their hearts, and things silly. He missed her skin, her company, her sharp, musing glances that both made him feel a man grown, and a man with much to still strive for. He missed the way she was soft only for him, and yet never ceased to be strong, assured and fierce.

Spending his days during the storms that whipped up the sides of Erebor, the sky outside the arrow slots in his chambers washed white, it was difficult to think on anything but her. Yes, he'd his own rooms now, cozy with fires in the hearth. Still, when there weren't other tasks keeping his older brother busy, Kili would spend as many hours as he could with Fili, playing at dice, board games or simply talking, mostly of their mother's coming and all that they'd do for her. Kili had the impression that Fili appreciated the diversion just as much. It was strange, though, neither of them sharing their innermost thoughts, as they always had, though perhaps not surprising. Being lads grown was a mightily new venture.

It was Fili who at last broke the silence, over a game of fidhcheall, maneuvering his pieces on the board carefully, “Go on little brother, out with it,” He smirked behind his yellow beard, as the wind howled outside, “We both know what's got -me- broodin'.”

“A kingdom to rule, a decided lack'o battles, an' a lass mum's bringin' for you to marry,” Kili counted off his brother's troubles easily, giving him a smirk. Fili replied with a narrowed gaze, and wacking one of Kili's soldiers off the board.

“Right, all that,” Fili reached for his nearby mug of ale, “What's got -your- arse in a bind though, eh?”

“...Believe me, I'm aware that m'troubles aren't anything against yours,” Kili cleared his throat, giving the board a long, perplexed and measured stare before making a move. Possibly to buy himself time. “It is...nothing new.” Of course, Fili was clever enough to know what he meant right off.

“The Captain? Still?” He gave his little brother an incredulous look, chuckling. Kili rolled his eyes, but Fili just laughed harder, “Ha! Oi, brother, I could understand pinin', but over an elf? Could ye've picked someone more impossible?” He shook his head, moving another piece, “She's pretty enough, for a bare-faced elf, I'll allow ye. Doesnae mean she'll ever return your mad notion, time you spent with her or no. Shake it off!”

Kili cleared his throat. If ever there was anyone he'd never, ever be able to hide something from, it was Fili. Sure enough, his brother paused, noting his expression, blinking a few times. Kili fidgeted more, eyes going toward the hearth. Fili's jaw dropped. “She...she didn't return it, did she?” Kili could only wince, hard. A long silence followed, and then,“How....how -much- did she return it?”

Kili bit his lip, expression sheepish as he glanced back to his brother. Fili was dumbstruck for a good long moment, head tilted, mouth open. 

“...How...?” He shook his head, rising, pressing the back of his hand to his brow, “Oh Mahal, this is...”

“No one knows or will know, I promise you!” Kili quickly regained his tongue, at Fili's suddenly distressed tone. He grabbed his brother's arm, stopping him before he could begin a proper, agitated pacing. “We have been...that is t'say,” Kili swallowed, glancing up at Fili with a wary eye, “...S'nothin' passing. S'also nothing that folk need know of!”

“Easily said in the wilds or on a riverbank, I imagine,” Fili finally grumbled, falling back into his chair. He gave Kili the eye, the chiding gaze he'd not seen since childhood, and Kili flinched just slightly, “...I know I've teased, but...strange as it is, I know ye, little brother, and m'not really surprised, just...” Fili sighed, and Kili shook his head before he could go on.

“No one'll know,” He repeated himself, quietly, “I'll not be gettin' over her soon though, brother, and...and s'not, not in her people's nature to either.”

“It's not natural, period,” Fili grumbled, but leaned forward, fixing Kili with a steady look, “The Captain'll have many dealin's with me. If you insist on this, I'll keep yer secret just fine, but...” Fili smirked, “You'd best get far better at lyin', little brother, because our mother sees through ye almost as well as I do.”

That was a fair point, and Kili winced again, running a hand through his hair, “Aye...I'm....I didn't mean t'put more on yer mind, brother, I'm sorry,” He quickly said, but Fili just waved a hand, sighing again, leaning forward to knock another of Kili game pieces off the board.

“Cleanin' up after your mischief s'actually...kind of a duty I was missing,” The King of Erebor allowed, with a smirk. 

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	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really, really liked writing this one.

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The snow did not fall thick in Mirkwood, though it did have a habit of settling on the thick press of trees overhead, sometimes weighing the boughs down enough for a mighty pile to fall, without much preamble, to the forest floor. Of course, the trees grew thinner and more uniform around the Woodland Halls, and before long there was an even blanket of a few inches coating the land. Still, Tauriel did not much feel the cold. In her home high in the trees, with the windows shuttered and a clever fire lit, howl as the wind might the chill did not reach the elf's bones.

Folded into the sparse furnishings in her treetop dwelling, the Captain of Mirkwood would bide her free time. Blessedly, she hadn't much of it. She'd hewn down the last of the orc and goblin stragglers on Mirkwood's borders in due course, but the winter cold wasn't much deterring the giant spiders, and the forest road was suddenly seeing many travelers. Tauriel often found herself far afield, mind on the task at hand. Yet always, she would have to come back home, to her quiet, snow-muffled home, her lonely bed. 

She was not one to dwell, at least. Since she'd been a girl, Tauriel had taken difficulties in stride. Her mother died, her father faded, these were private pains to be folded into herself, dealt with in private, for life did not take a pause, and it was so very, very long. She was finding it to be a rather different endeavor, however, when it was her own heart that was far afield. 

Oh, how she missed his merry laugh at her elbow, her side! Her folk were plenty merry, certainly, but the absence of her lover was one felt keenly. Kili was young and ridiculous and reckless and not of her race, and yet he was all that was missing from her days. For all that they'd only been joined for a fortnight, she'd still find herself reaching out for him in the nights, finding only chilled bedclothes. The reality of her duties had steadied her, but they'd done nothing to lessen her love, or her longing.

“New orders!” Legolas broke into her musings one evening, as she accompanied Thranduil's Winter hunting party, returning to the Halls. Tauriel reined up her horse, lofting a brow as the King slipped under the gates. “The King of Erebor's mother approaches the Old Road.” Tauriel felt her heart lurch at that, “From up the river, seems they took the long, safer, watery route. Father would have none but you, I, and our own soldiers escorting them through the Wood, as a gesture of good faith and friendship to Erebor.”

“He would not tell me this himself?” Were the first, somewhat rough words from her mouth. Tauriel cleared her throat, but Legolas only smiled.

“Oh, there'll be a proper, official summons tonight, my father entrusting you personally and honorably...” Legolas winked, “I was merely forewarning you, that you might school your responses now.” Tauriel smiled then, shaking her head with a sigh.

Telling her friend hadn't been as difficult as she'd thought. Legolas didn't miss much, with eyes to the horizon or to those dear to him. While his confusion over her attachment to the Dwarf prince had been profound, he'd also accepted it with little more than a shrug. “You've always favored those who shared your proficiency with a bow,” Was all he said, at least aloud.

Tauriel saw, though, that he noticed more, far deeper things, than she let on. As she had with him for so long. Years of friendship, of knowings things about each other that those around them did not, informed this. She knew that his attractions were not for women, he now knew that hers, apparently, were currently not even for elves For all that most of their communication had moved beyond the spoken word, many among their people had thought they'd be married by now. Oh, if only they knew, Tauriel thought with a smile. 

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The Elvenking was sending an escort? That was amusing indeed, Dis thought, departing their craft on the banks of the river Anduin, just short of the Old Ford. Fili had sent his urgings along as well, though, citing all that had transpired between their two peoples since the Battle of Five Armies. And thus, she vowed to be amiable to the envoy, at least. After a proper wash in the river and redressing in clothes somewhat more befitting her sex and station, Dis found herself treating with an Elven Prince on the fawn-colored winter grass bordering the lands of Beorn.

“We come to see you safely through our wood, Lady,” The Prince bowed low, and the dwarf princess could not help but shake her head.

“Rumor and report reached me and still I could not quite believe it, yet here y'are,” She turned to the tall, ruddy-haired elf lady at Legolas' side, and her head fell to a musing tilt, “That color. Not common, in elves?” 

“No, my Lady,” Tauriel smiled, dipping her head as well, “A rarity, but not a notable one among my folk.”

“Had you been born a dwarf, it'd have made you a famed beauty,” Dis said lightly, unable to know just how that comment stirred a humor in the Captain.

“Your...younger son, he once mentioned as much to me,” Tauriel replied, with a small smile. Guarded somewhat, if Dis had to guess. But elves were always guarded. This didn't surprise her to hear either, in fact it made her own smile go softer for a moment. Kili always had been free with his words, and with his friendships. Yes, Dis decided, she was far more impressed by the Lady than Thranduil's son. 

“I have heard from Balin that friendship came much easier, 'tween the younger of our folk and yours, and it is clear to me now that this be so. We'd be glad to trouble you for the escort, then.” She spoke loudly, that the men and women following her might hear, and know how she expected them to behave. For all she knew she looked steady, it still surprised Dis, how they listened. Perhaps matriarchy did suit her, as her brother had always said it would... 

“By my Lord and King, we'll see that no harm comes to you or your company,” The Lady Elf said, and Dis did not miss the sincerity in her voice. She'd not met many elves in her life, but this one she liked almost immediately, despite herself, between the knives and bow on her person, and the relative openness to her bearing. The Prince noted this as well, Dis saw, that she differed to the woman with him, noting his long-suffering sigh. It made her smirk, reaching up and stroking the long dark braids that fell from her jaw.

“I trust your eyes and ears, then,” Dis nodded, turning, motioning to her folk, Mari standing foremost among them. The lass was better-dressed as well, having traded her trail-stained things for cleaner clothes, a fresh cloak. Her curly blonde tresses braided and twined, she almost looked a traveling princess herself. “My eldest's betrothed, Mari daughter of Magrin.” Dis spoke fondly, “See us both safely home, and this friendship may yet last,” Her tone was teasing, though, and the Captain clearly caught it, smirking.

“Noted! Stray not from the path, at least not without one of us at your side,” Tauriel replied, motioning to her prince to rise, “Pardon, but the sooner we are on our way, the more of the forest we'll put behind us in the daylight. Nights will be frightening, even for our kin. We're far from our Halls.”

“I heartily agree,” Dis replied, not hiding her anxiousness to be on. In short order her folk were assembled, some of the dwarves eying the elves suspiciously, but most just glad to be on land again, and so much closer to The Lonely Mountain. 

There was still the forest, though...

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“There are eyes,” Mari's whisper reached Tauriel's ears easily, the elf nodding back, not taking her eyes from the darkened branches. Night had fallen on their company, many dwarves camped along the path, flanked by Tauriel, Legolas, and their company. It would be far different a trek than the hellish, surreal journey Kili had described to her, but it would still be tedious, and there was nothing for the great, fell things that crouched in the darkness.

“Mostly harmless insects, only large,” Legolas explained, from some way down the path, nearer the one fire that was still lit. Dinner had been merry enough, but then fires had been banked for bed, and oh, how the terrors became apparent then, “Further on, however, they might belong to Spiders, and then is the time we'll be especially watchful.”

“Like to stomp out into the trees right now,” Mari grumbled, her grip on her axe tightening, “Put out as many eyes as I could, just to catch some rest.” Tauriel grinned. The lass was pretty, especially now that she understood dwarven standards better, but Mari was definitely a fighter first. It was in her rough hands, her strong arm, the stance she held herself in. For what little Tauriel knew of Fili, she had a fairly good feeling that he'd take a liking to her in no time. 

“You'd only be lost in the pitch black, for even our eyes can only see so far into this part of the wood,” Tauriel told her, her voice laced with understanding, “Take your rest, princess, they'll not harm anyone on this road. It is old magic.” Mari sighed, but did set aside her axe after a time, turning to her bedroll and drawing her blanket up over her head. Tauriel didn't blame her in the slightest, glaring out at a pair of especially bulbous, yellow eyes.

“You know this wood well,” Dis' quieter, calmer voice reached her, much closer. Tauriel nodded, noting that the Lady of Durin looked far from weary.

“Until your brother's company passed through our borders, I'd not ever left it,” She replied, voice dropping as more of the dwarves went to their bedrolls, her kin falling to meditative, watchful rest. “This darkness, though...it is new. When I was younger it was the Greenwood, and a child could pass along this path unharmed and untroubled in the night, but for the usual things that live and rustle in a wood, fox and wolf and bear.”

“One could not fault your folk for their suspicions, then,” Dis frowned into the dark, and Tauriel could swear that the night creatures themselves slunk back from her disapproving gaze. “...You saw my brother in his final days.” The Lady said at length, and Tauriel hesitated, before nodding. 

“I saw him only when he was in my custody, and then when we fought together before the gates of Erebor,” She replied, “Others surely can tell you more, once you've reached your home...”

“I would know how our new allies saw him as well,” Dis said easily, though with a tone of voice that allowed for no argument. Again, Tauriel could not help but smile. Stubborn, like her son, yet with far more surety in her bearing. 

“He held himself in nothing but dignity in our cells,” Tauriel answered, honestly, “And when common foe befell us outside of Dale, he did not hesitate in joining the fight. When Fili took his wound, Thorin Oakenshield's wroth would not be contained...many fell under his blade...” Dis nodded at this, pressing her lips together, lifting her chin lest an elf see the wetness in her eyes, the Captain wagered. 

“...It is foolishness, what men think will honor us, when all we'd have is them home, safe, doing honest work...” The dwarf lady sighed, shaking her head, “He won my sons and I back our home, coin and allies, though. It was an honorable sacrifice, then.”

“The folk already love your sons, as well,” Tauriel told her, quietly, and Dis smirked.

“That, I never worried for. Everyone loves those boys, it is their greatest gift,” Dis turned away to sleep, and Tauriel smirked, a soft sigh slipping past her lips.

Yes, loving her son was easy, though it left quite the ache. 

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	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For as much as I get so wary about OCs in general...Dwarf ladies. The. End.

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And when it's time to pray  
We'll be dressed up all in grey  
With metal on our tongues  
And silver in our lungs...

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“Ease your arm,” The elf murmured at her elbow, adjusting Mari's hold on the bow. Her words were barely above a breath, the ears on the deer just off the path hardly twitching, “Tug a bit harder, it is tauter than you're likely used to,” Mari dutifully did so. The arrow found it's place in the hart's side, the beast falling to the forest floor.

“Well done!” Tauriel called, reaching for the rope that had been tied to the arrow, following it as a guideline into the maze of unpredictable trees. The elves had assured them that the press and darkness grew lesser further on, but after so many days, the young dwarf was beginning to wonder. Their escort was very kind, though, keeping the industrious minds of her kin occupied as much they could. The Captain had been teaching Mari the finer points of the much larger elven bow over the last day or so. 

“Still mighty unwieldy,” Mari inspected the bow, near as tall as she was. Her own, much smaller one she'd packed away, thinking there'd not be much long-range fighting or hunting to be had in the cursed wood. The elves, of course, had their tricks. Apart from being somewhat aloof, even teasing at times, Mari found herself liking them. At least, the few who actually spoke to her, Tauriel chief among them.

“Only a matter of size,” Tauriel replied, returning to the path, others of her kinsman carrying off the kill. The other dwarves looked downright relieved. Lembas were tasty, but meat was starting to be sorely missed. “Your aim was impeccable.” 

“Eh, I was a hunter back home,” Mari smiled wide, handing the elf back her bow, “Used t'keepin' a homestead fed.”

“You'll get on well with your new brother, then,” Tauriel smirked, easily moving the weapon to her back, her movements fluid and quick. Mari would never get used to that, and could understand why it unsettled many of her elders. Elves were just...far too light on the earth, she decided. For a race who liked being solid, close to the earth's foundations, it was an obvious and fundamental difference. The usual mistrust made sense when she thought about it. It also made her less apt to join in it, Mari was finding.

“How did a huntress come to be chosen for a King, then?” It was asked conversationally, and Mary shrugged.

“My cousin Lily is close to the Lady Dis,” She replied, glancing back to where the lady was walking with some of their warriors, “Lily is wed to Gloin, who was in Thorin's Company. She suggested me to Dis, when she said that she meant to go East...” Mari remembered that day well. She also remembered how she'd jumped at the invitation with hardly a second thought...

“As I understand your customs, from your Lord's brother,” Tauriel went on, the two of them walking toward the head of the party over the endless road, “Aside from those meant to rule, young dwarves don't have much pressure to wed...” A lofted brow, and Mari could discern the unasked question well enough. She smiled, shrugging, pushing her heavy yellow braids back from her face. 

“Doesnae mean some of us don't -want- to,” She smiled, feeling a warmth in her face even as she did, remembering responses to her choice to follow the Lady Dis. “...It -was- odd though, aye, a lass leavin' her family like that, for some lad she'd never properly met, King or no. But...” Mari paused, thinking on how to best put it, “...I've always wanted to leave home, which is odd 'nuff. And, well, the day I first held m'cousin's son? Knew I wanted to be a mum,” She smiled wide, “I'm a jewelry-maker an' a hunter, but I cannae wait to have a house full 'o wee ones! So...I took m'chances that th' King of Erebor might take a likin' to me,” Another shrug. Mari knew that to many, that still sounded rather mad.

The elf, however, just grinned wide.

“Following a whim and a desire into the wilds, there is much courage in that,” Tauriel nodded. Mari liked her more and more. “And of course, a huntress will find many to feed in Erebor, a jeweler much to work with...”

“Can't deny it, that last one was a big temptation too! Cannae wait to get m'hands workin' the gold of the mountain...” Mari grinned, tilting her head, as a brave beam of sunlight managed to fight its way down through the branches, lighting on Tauriel's hair for a moment. Green gems gleamed in the gloom. “I've meant to ask ye, Captain, where'd ye come by those baubles? They're fine craftsmanship!”

“They were a gift...” Tauriel answered, evenly, but even Mari did not miss the guarded, measured tone to her response. The dwarf lass squinted, eying the beads closer, much as she could in the dim light, and while they were walking. They were wrought of royal grade gold, that much she could tell from a distance. A notion occurred to her, but blew away just as quickly. No, surely not.

“...Y'must have helped sow much peace 'tween our two folk, for the princes to be so generous,” She settled on that much more comfortable notion happily, and as she got a smile in return, figured she'd gotten it right. 

“They are indeed very generous, you'll find, and kind as well.” The Captain turned it into a reassuring statement, and Mari found herself appreciating it quite a bit.

“I do hope he likes me...”

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The days passed slowly and tediously, as the party moved through Mirkwood. Tauriel even felt her own spirits drop more than once, having not been to this part of the forest in some time. But the branches and darkness did eventually thin, and as the end of the road had fallen to disrepair, they moved into the far friendlier trees near the Woodland Halls, boots moving over the thin cover of snow on fallen leaves. 

Dis would not be stopping to take her ease there, and Thranduil had not offered an invitation, yet neither party seemed surprised nor offended by this. After so long in the darkness, the eagerness to be on toward the Lake, the Lonely Mountain, and the free sun and snow trumped all things in the dwarves.

“The boats were timely,” Legolas noted, as they at last reached the banks of the Forest River and the barges waiting to bring them up the Long Lake. Tauriel smirked, moving to help the dwarves with their provisions, others of the Halls meeting to bring them more, some joining them on their way to Esgaroth.

“You'll not be accompanying them?” Dis asked of her, as Tauriel left the craft, calling a farewell to the handful of Elven healers and craftsmen journeying with them, to continue their aid to the Lake Men. The Captain shook her head, carefully keeping her expression kind, mild.

“I was there for some weeks, when Kili routed out the forest, but I'll not be leaving my King's borders again until springtime,” Dis nodded at this, turning and eying her up and down once more, that critical gaze somewhat warmer now, and with a good humor. It had become clear to Tauriel, over the long trek, that the Lady had much to be watchful and guarded over. It was easy to forget all that Dis had lost in her life, for how firm and authoritative she held herself. These were the strengths seeing her through her grief, and Tauriel could very much understand this, easily submitting to her scrutiny. 

“Yer a fine choice as an ambassador, Captain,” Dis told her, finally, a corner of her lips turning upward, “Balin and my sons said as much, that even Thorin could find little to mislike in you. Still, I wanted to know m'self, and they spoke true.” At that, they clasped hands in friendship, briefly, Tauriel bowing low. “We'll look to see you in the Spring. Farewell.”

“Namarie, and safe journey Lady,” Tauriel murmured, stepping back as the last of the dwarves took to the boat, oars rising in the icy river water. Mari waved like a young girl from the prow, and Tauriel could not help but smile, waving back. Legolas slipped over to her side, crossing his arms and sighing dramatically by her elbow.

“She didn't like me much, now did she?” The Prince asked, and Tauriel chuckled, shaking her head.

“It is your father she mistrusts and dislikes, and you do look quite a lot like him,” She grinned, looking to him, “Dis was a wee girl when Erebor fell, an ear to her brother's prejudices for many a year, as we've been to The King's.”

“Watch yourself there,” Legolas noted, without any real threat whatsoever, sighing, “They remain very odd to me, I admit. Even so, they do have excellent drink...” He looked to her again, raising a brow, “...Wager they only like you because of the hair.”

“We are a crafty lot, redheads,” Tauriel moved to go, giving her friend a hearty nudge. A frown crossed her features, though, unheeded as they walked, leaving no prints behind them in the snow, “...I doubt she'd have liked me half so much if she knew...all that there was to know.”

“You never know,” Legolas spoke mildly, though his voice was thoughtful, taking her arm as they walked, pulling her close to his side. Tauriel smiled. They didn't speak in words, then, as two friends with much about themselves hidden from their world.

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She gazed unabashedly up at the gates, as their party passed under their great maw. Folk cheered them, so many wives and daughters and sisters, among some of their great merchants and miners of the West. Still, Dis' eyes lingered on the gates. They were as great and impressive as they'd been in her childhood memories, and those memories were also ringed in dragon's fire. Tearing her eyes away from them, as those around her called out to relations in the wide streets, having reunions between families and friends, Dis couldn't help but smile again. Erebor would also be all the fine things she remembered...and, Mahal willing, none of the bad.

“Mum!” She whirled, just in time to catch her youngest in a tight embrace, laughing loudly, letting him spin her 'round once, twice. Lady of Durin's house or no, at the sight of him she was simply a mother who'd not seen her son in months and months. She took his face in her hands, grinning wide, looking him over, before kissing both cheeks.

“Yer getting' more beard!” She exclaimed, laughing. Kili lifted his chin, giving her a better view of his whiskers with that cheeky smirk of his. Ah, her Kili, battle-tested or not he was still a little boy and it eased her heart to see. Dis did not miss that new thing in his eyes, however, a glint of someone older, someone a bit wiser peaking out. It wasn't a bad thing. “Oi, you took a wound though?”

“It's all but full healed now, promise, ugly ol' scar though!” He grinned wider, looking her over in turn, “Fili's was worse, he's only just gotten his full strength back...we didn't want to worry ye on the road!” He was quick to add, but Dis just waved a hand.

“Balin was a bit more honest than you two were in his messages,” She smirked, and her son winced, wrapping an arm around her shoulders and drawing her away from the crowd. “He's sitting the throne?” She guessed, from the direction he meant to lead her in. Kili's grin returned.

“You remember yer way about well!” He nodded, “An' aye, he thought maybe...meetin' certain folk who've come with ye, away from a crowd...”

“Ah, say no more,” Dis chuckled. Fili, for all his swagger and confidence with a blade, had never much liked anyone seeing him at his more vulnerable. Not as a child, not as a man. She turned back, motioning to the lass who'd been hovering nearby, obviously both awkward and enthusiastic. Mari sheathed her axes with a grin, and hurried to follow.

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	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I admit it, I am quite enjoying the family dynamic thus far.

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The lass was certainly pretty, Kili mused, glancing behind them as Mari took in the size and scope of her new home in awe. Her hair and beard curled prettily, a lighter color than his brother's, and yet her arms looked strong, used to a hammer or an ax. It was hard to guess what Fili liked, even for Kili. His brother had flirted with the lasses plenty, but as those were never serious, he'd never bothered to settle on a type (or maybe Kili had just been too jealous to notice, lasses had hardly spared -him- a glance, after all). Kili had a fairly good feeling Mari stood an excellent chance, anyway, between her pretty face and her big axes. 

“Thranduil's Captain had much to say of your treatin' with the Lake Men, as did they, of course...” His mother was noting, and Kili stumbled over his boots, steadying himself again quickly. He hadn't been expecting Tauriel to come up so soon...his mother didn't seem to notice. He -had- been tripping over his own feet since he was small. “She was certainly decent enough, for an elf.” Her brow arched, waiting for his response. Kili was proud of his untroubled shrug.

“We talked lots, when I was her prisoner,” He replied, honestly. That had been his brother's advice, keep as much to the truth as possible. “She's high up, but don't have much strong opinions on us folk, bein' young for her people. Makes for a good go-between, if you like,” All true, and all made his mother smirk, nodding, “She's good with a bow too, s'what we talked about mostly, huntin' and the like...”

“You always were able to find common ground with others, forge friendships easily. You and your brother both,” Dis squeezed his arm, the pride in her tone nearly causing him to wince. He'd never been good at keeping things from his mother. Succeeding at it, well...he felt a little guilty. But also a lot relieved. “Better, perhaps, than your uncle would have been, but even he'd have seen the need, in time,” She sighed, “Much as it may gall many, we need the elves right now. We need 'em to help plant, heal, sow this scorched earth we've won back. Things our people were never gifted at.”

“Fili an' I have no troubles treating with her, or the prince,” Kili maintained, keeping his footing this time.

Fili rose from his seat almost as soon as they entered the hall, Balin and Dwalin flanking him. Dis embraced her eldest tightly, and while he was relatively more reserved than Kili had been, his smile was still wide and merry. His heavy crown left behind him on the throne, and his color healthy, if a little pale, Kili thought he looked much like the lad who'd bid Dis farewell in the Blue Mountains. The wear of ruling was already on him, though, and their mother saw it, brushing his hair back from his brow.

“My boy,” She said, gently, embracing him again, “...I'll make you take some rest whether you heed me or no.” Fili laughed, holding her tighter. Kili chuckled as well, noting that Dis' glare went over his brother's shoulder and hit both Balin and Dwalin equally, “You've been lettin' him do too much.” She told them, flatly.

“Oh believe me, my dear, I have tried my best to make him rest,” Balin sighed, long-suffering to the last. Dwalin, on the other hand, simply waited until Fili had released Dis, before tugging her into his own arms.

“He's got all your stubbornness,” The big dwarf said into her thick hair, gruffly, and Kili saw it all over Dwalin's face, how much the man had missed his mother. He shared a glance with his brother, finding Fili smirking back at him. Perhaps now, finally, after all this time...

“Pity for 'im,” Dis winked, pushing away from Dwalin with a grin, and then turning. “Mari, lass?” Mari, it turned out, was just by Kili's elbow, stepping into view carefully and with a hopeful little smile, “Fili, this is Mari. No one else about to be formal for, just...she's an excellent lass, by my word. I'd like it if you knew each other.”

Kili watched his brother, as he beheld the girl. Mari smiled easily his way, her clothes fine, her weapons still on display. There was a flush to her cheeks, of course, and it wasn't long before the lass was looking down at her toes, biting her lip, as his brother's staring went on. Fili opened his mouth, and then closed it, and then smiled wide and merry in return, his eyes lighting up as her gaze flickered up to his again. Mari eased again, and Kili was fairly sure that yep, his brother was done in, like that.

“...Lady Mari,” Fili found his tongue at last, stepping forward and taking her hand. “I...I welcome you to Erebor,” He smiled wider, looking endlessly goofy and gobsmacked, and Kili could only silently congratulate his mother. She knew her sons better than they gave her credit for.

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She stood before his tomb, and could not help the tremor that moved through her, to finally see it, to believe that he was truly gone.

Dis had begged a private moment with her brother soon after the welcoming feast, to say farewell properly to Thorin Oakenshield. Brother, Lord, surrogate-father to her boys, her protector for many long years. She whispered those goodbyes, sliding her fingers now over the great sword that lie upon his cairn, set their by an Elven King. Swung in defense of her boys, in winning back these halls for them all. Settling on the hard floor, she allowed herself a moment to weep, leaning against his tomb, a hand to the smooth stone. 

“Y'fool,” She whispered, scrubbing at her eyes, her noble manner of speech slipping, “Y'fool, an' yet I cannae deny what you won back for us...” She sighed, “Y'saved him, my son. Y'kept your promise, you brought us home...why th'hell didn't y'ever marry, y'great idiot?!” Dis suddenly ground out, recalling the circles under Fili's eyes, the wound he'd shown her before supper, at her insisting. “Iffin you'd always meant to come back, to kill a dragon and become a bloody king, why didn't you leave children of yer own...?” 

She stammered over her words, though, remembering the bright, burnished brown eyes of an older lass from her childhood. A lass who'd made her brother smile, though they were both far from adulthood. The lass who'd gone up in ash, along with so many others they'd known and loved. As quickly as Dis' annoyance had risen, it fled again, and she was sighing into the dimly lit hall, “I know, I'm not one to talk, 'bout gettin' over yer first love, just...” She winced, “He's so young, Thorin. He should have many years yet, of bein' young, bein' reckless with his brother...”

“Fili's a fine King, though,” Kili's voice reached her then, her youngest stepping out from the shadows and settling beside her. He wrapped a reassuring arm around her shoulders, and Dis could not help but smile, leaning on his shoulder. He was ever soft-hearted, her boy, even as he was becoming a man. “The folk love 'im, both ours and the Men who're our neighbors. And ye've set him and me up well, mum, all these elder folk 'round us to tell us what's what, and a pretty lass to catch his eye...” 

“Does he like her?” Dis asked, and Kili gave her that devious little smirk of his. The one that hadn't changed since he was four years old and swiping sweets.

“When I left 'em at dinner, they'd just started in on ax-throwin', so aye, judgin' by the dents in the walls, I'd wager he likes her.” Dis snorted.

“That,” She sighed, shaking her head, “That is what I would have him doin' with himself all th' time, bein' carefree and all. Between you an' Mari, maybe his days will be eased.”

“S'all I really want, mother,” Kili told her, honestly, looking at her, and Dis met his gaze, tilting her head, “T'ease his burdens. Fight for 'im, keep 'im laughin'...”

“Aye? I'd thought to suggest you return West, be Lord of your uncle's halls back in the Blue Mountains...” She felt a muscle twitch in his arm, and chuckled, thinking it only to be over the thought of being separated from his brother, “Ah, but I knew tha'd never be, you two, you'll be a great help to each other...perhaps you'll find yerself a lass as well, maybe, aye?”

He shook his head, though, and Dis did not miss the pensive look that came over her son. His brow furrowed as he looked away, frowning. A far cry from the merry, dismissive laugh he might have given her in the past, or even the sulking grumbles over how the lasses didn't even spare him notice. No, Kili would be noticed, now. Proven in battle, strong, tough, with a thick beard coming in (simply late, like his father's), a seriousness lurking in his otherwise merry eyes. The Battle really had changed him, more than he let on, Dis thought. 

Oh, how she could not even guess, how much more he'd experienced. 

“...Not for a long, long while,” He finally told her, pulling a smile again, though his eyes were not in it, “One day, perhaps...but nah, too much t'do now, to build. Too many nephews to make sure get born,” He waggled his brow, and Dis dissolved into chuckles despite her concern. Her ridiculous boy...

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The winter seemed to pass so very slowly, but pass it did, in its time. The layer of snow that had managed to settle in the woods faded, and the Forest River swelled, rapids making it almost too hazardous to send barrels down, as they tended to crash and splinter against the banks at this time of year. Tauriel tried not to imagine how that might've panned out for their neighbors in Erebor, had their journey been further delayed. 

With the warmth came the great spiders as well, with a new vigor, yet still Thranduil maintained that he would send Tauriel with the spring envoy to Dale. “While farming their soil and negotiating the trade routes are paramount importance, few wish to have dealings with the Dwarves in person,” The King told her, simply, “I admit, I myself would prefer our relationship to be from afar. You are a rare and valued help to me in this, Tauriel.” He'd smiled vaguely, and she'd only had the stomach to return it just as vaguely.

She was still somewhat torn, though. For all that her spirit was high and her heart was tugging her eagerly Northward, long had the defense of her home been Tauriel's foremost duty. Few things stirred her anger and sense of The Greenwood's violation quite like the persistent, wicked creatures spawning in its heart. Tauriel's inner conflict was quickly eased, however, when Legolas informed her the very next morning that he'd been charged with beating the spiders and other fell things back from their borders, in her absence.

“So, let that ease any guilt you may be experiencing, for being so glad to be off to the Dwarven halls,” He smiled wide, as they readied their horses side by side, preparing to ride off in opposite directions. “And do remember to wash all of your things of the scent, before you return...” 

“You only tease so meanly when you yourself are in very high spirits,” Tauriel sent him a glare, and then a wary glance to where her own party was mounting, lest they hear. The other elves seemed quite taken up with their tasks, though, packing up tools for planting, seeding, and making the soil of Dale and Esgaroth rich. “So eager to take my place for a month or so, mm?”

“...Something of the sort...” His keen eyes glanced to his own party, and Tauriel had to smile, making a soft 'ah' noise. Her friend had long had his gaze drawn by one of her more trusted archers, a man of noble brow and fair brown hair. Halhrim was fine, even she had to admit, though he spent even more hours at his guard duties than Tauriel was known to do, and thus not much time in the Halls. So now, at last, Legolas would have days in the forest, in his company. 

“I wish you all luck there,” She spoke aloud, and earnestly, her meaning only known to him. Legolas' smile softened to her, and he dipped his head. The two of them mounted in sync, reaching for each other in friendship, hands resting on jawlines, quiet farewells shared. “Farewell, brother.”

“Keep your feet, sister,” He murmured back, winking, “Farewell.”

He and her soldiers beat a hasty thrum into the woods, and Tauriel felt only a small pang now, that she was not with them. But oh, how love had churned inside of her, as it was known to do among her kin, always, and was why she'd not allowed it near her for so long. But it could not be helped now, and with a smile as her party took a somewhat slower, yet still brisk pace toward the river, Tauriel found that she did not mind how it felt. Like a string winding, tugging her back toward the piece of herself that she lacked, and bringing back his in turn.

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	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had a lot of feels for this one. If more people knew the way, according to Tolkien's canon, that elves loved...well. I'll just let Tauriel tell you <3

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Winter's end  
promises of a long lost friend  
speaks to me of comfort  
but I fear  
I have nothing to give  
I have so much to lose  
here in this lonely place  
tangled up in our embrace  
there's nothing I'd like  
better than to fall...  
but I fear I have nothing to give...  
I have so much to lose...

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Dale's spires were rising again, much of the city closest Erebor already bustling as the road up from the lake hosted more traffic. Springtime had swollen currents favorably on the Rivers. Men and Dwarves of the South were arriving daily to grow the settlements, and below, near the ruin of Esgaroth, the new town was rising swiftly over the waters. The spring fevers seemed to be sparing much of the town, now that they were off the swampy banks, and Tauriel's party lingered only briefly there before sailing on. Their soil was rich, their livestock well. The Lonely Mountain needed far more of the Elves' help.

In most natural places of the world, ash would only enrich the soil after an eruption, or fires. A dragon's ash was different, a poison to the soil, and while Smaug's death and the following, natural winter had somewhat leeched the ground, there was still much tilling to be done. The feeding of Dale, and Erebor, depended upon it. 

It did not temper the stirring in Tauriel's soul over other things, of course, as she took audience before Fili's throne. His mother was there, Kili as well, and her expression was as carefully schooled as ever, smiling softly as she dipped her head in a bow. The Dwarf King returned it, his own smile wide and warm. “Captain, it is good to see you again,” Fili told her, and Tauriel could see that he was as genuine as ever.

“My Lord, and it is good to see you looking so well!” Indeed, he did look far healthier than the last time she'd seen the King, back when his wounds not yet closed and infection was still a risk. Fili was hale and merry now, though still looking far too young to be on the throne, even as it suited him. Her eyes fluttered to his brother for only a moment, praying their mother missed the brilliant, momentary grin Kili sent her. Her own heart leaped, but she did not let it show. “My people are already setting themselves to their tasks in Dale's fields, while my King would have us discuss the routes for trade and safe passages...”

“As well as the repair of the Forest road, I reckon?” Fili added, and Tauriel couldn't help smiling again. He was well-informed. She did not miss old Balin's pleased glance to his pupil.

“Indeed, as the fel things that have harried us retreat with the loss of their Dark Master, more might find it fit to traverse. Which is in both our people's interests.” The young King nodded in reply.

“All we'll talk on at length, tomorrow,” He told her, still so brightly, and Tauriel bowed again, noting his somewhat-more-proper manner of speech drop, “Until then, I do hope you'll be takin' yer rest here? There's rooms made up, an' I believe Dale's hostin' a welcome feast tonight...”

“My gratitude, King,” She managed to keep her voice from wavering, miraculously, fingers twitching at her side. Rooms made up, in the nice warm palace, with doors that no doubt latched...no, her mind most certainly did not wander. “My kin will be staying in Dale, the better to see to their planting, but as my work is here, I happily accept your hospitality.”

“Wonderful! My brother'll show you the way then, no doubt you'll be wantin' rest after yer long journeying.” It was innocuous enough, but for the knowing smirk behind his braided yellow beard, and Tauriel nearly dropped her mask, blinking. By the Valar, he -knew-...

Kili, meanwhile, approached her cheerily, offering her an arm with a cheeky grin. One he might give anyone, any guest he'd been saddled with. When had he become so good at this? Ah, right, she thought, glancing toward where his mother sat, utterly unconcerned, in a side-long conversation with Dwalin. He'd have had to become better, with Dis' sharp gaze present. “Surely, I'd not trouble the prince with the task?” She smiled back, arching a brow. Kili shrugged, expansively so.

“Eh, I'm only here to make him look good anyway,” He joked, sending his brother a look. Fili rolled his eyes right back. Kili gave her a tug, and the elf turned, smiling to herself.

“Welcome to Erebor, Captain.” The Lady Dis called after them, and Tauriel let out a long breath, squeezing the arm under her hand.

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They were very well-behaved, Kili thought, all the way through the halls to the inner palace. Tauriel even cultivated a little space between them, as if being escorted by a dwarf were something to gracefully make the best of. He thought he did a fine job of not staring at her as well, instead chattering amiably about how far Erebor had come, how fine the halls already looked, and what the rest of the Company were up to. He saw the genuine interest in her expression, anyway, and the warm, almost possessive pressure on his elbow hadn't eased. 

“...And so now, Nori's really got no idea what to do with himself!” He was saying, as they turned the corner to her guest chambers.

“One fourteenth of a hoard to his name, after years as a thief?” Tauriel chuckled, as they paused at her door, “I cannot imagine!”

“He's sent plenty home to their mum, an' Dori's tryin' to talk him into an honest life of craftin', but mostly he just stares at 'is gold and doesnae leave his house...” He trailed off, looking up at her. She sucked in a breath, and he couldn't help staring at her bottom lip, the way she drew it behind her teeth, and he took her hand this time. They were quite alone in the passageway. But he figured, getting used to always being doubly careful could only be a good thing, “...I'll show you 'round the windows an' latches...”

“That's very kind, Prince,” She breathed back, lips fluttering in a smile, and he could not tug her into that room fast enough.

The door closed, latched, and Kili hardly had time turn before she was kneeling, taking his face in her hands and kissing him. He groaned against her mouth, wrapping his arms around her waist and kissing her back with a fervor. The tightening in his chest was keen, like a pain released the closer he was to her. She moved against his mouth, as if trying to breathe him in like air, hands sliding along his jaw with questing, slender fingers in his beard. 

“It's thicker,” Tauriel whispered, eyes and little smile teasing. Kili snorted, resting his forehead against hers for a moment, shutting his eyes. Then he pulled back a bit, letting his gaze dart all over her face, finally letting himself drink her all in. Her mouth, those eyes he'd missed so, had dreamed about, pictured in both his most innocent and most fevered of dreams. He touched her face again, tracing her lips and her cheekbones with his rough fingers. Her eyes slid shut at his touch to her ears, and Kili kissed her again.

“I missed you,” He whispered, as she buried her face in his shoulder, the two of them clutching close. “No, no I...I ached fer you...”

“As did I,” She replied, hands fisting in the back of his tunic, “The winter was...very cold.”

“-Very-,” Kili grinned.

“...And my knees hurt,” She added, and he snickered, knowing he looked the fool, unable to keep the grin from his face as the elf lass rose. But Tauriel was looking at him as well, her whole face alight and her expression soft, as it only was when she was with him. She turned, taking in her room, the saddlebags already brought there, the simple, yet large bed. While most things in Erebor were of a size for his people, dwarves liked their big, comfy beds at the end of a hard day's work. It seemed to fit her fine at least, as she kicked off her boots and fell to the covers with a deep and grateful sigh. Kili sat down beside her, reaching to wind her beaded braids around his fingers.

“You'll be wantin' sleep...?” He asked in a low voice, but she only smiled, shaking her head.

“Elves find rest and renewal in many things, my Prince,” She replied just as softly, reaching for his collar, tugging him down to her, “And I am very much renewed in your arms...”

“M'likin' Elves more an' more,” His voice rumbled in his throat, pressing her into the blankets as he kissed her. A hunger very soon took over, and they were shedding layers swiftly, hands skimming over skin and clothes and armor, lips hardly parting.

“Won't you be missed?” She gasped, as he tossed her leather corset aside, sucking on the soft flesh just under her jaw. She tasted and smelt of springtime...it was the only way he knew to describe it, fresh and green and clean. Kili grinned, shaking his head, biting her throat softly, and reveling in the moan it elicited. 

“Mentioned I might take y'shootin'...” He murmured, pulling her gossamer, green tunic up over her head, through her hair. She sighed, grinning, turning and straddling him to the bed, tugging his underclothes aside.

“You're getting dangerously clever, my love,” She whispered back, kissing him, rolling her hips to take him in, aching and eager already. Kili clutched her close, rising to meet her, wrapping his arms around her. Some might wonder, if her height bothered him. He grinned against her skin, gripping her hips as she moved, gasping, drawing an echoing sound from his throat. No, there was nothing unequal in this bed, height differences be damned.

“Need to, to keep up with you,” He grinned, and she kissed him, and oh how close that afternoon came, to making up for the long winter months they'd spent apart...

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Only a few of the dwarves accompanied her, the Prince, and the King down to Dale for the evening's feast. Tauriel was privately amused at how similar opinions were, between two peoples who so loathed each other: Let the young forge what bonds they might, most elders will still only be tolerant at best. Many seemed perfectly content to pretend the elves weren't even there, aside from their actual ambassador. Well, as long as the feelings were mutual, and the work of surviving with each others' help got done...

They rode the short distance to Dale, Fili flanked by his guard and the lively young Mari, whom, Tauriel was pleased to see, looked very well. She was dressed in fine clothes, and there were gold promise rings hanging in her hair and beard now. Fili chatted with her easily, if not exactly intimately, not yet anyway. The elf still smiled, knowing such folk would come around for each other, in their time. They were both still young, and had time to do so. 

As for herself, Tauriel tried not to let her glances linger too long on her lover, much as they both wanted them to. She had dressed in a spring green dress of some finery for the evening, knowing the folk of Dale would be far more joyous over the Elves' return. Her hair was let long and set with her golden flowers again, and Kili tried, and failed to keep from staring at her. She sent him an arched brow, and he dutifully looked forward again on his pony, barely containing a bemused grin. 

“Captain,” It was Bard who greeted her when she dismounted, as warmly as he'd last parted with her, and Tauriel did not miss the delight in his gaze, even as he was formal in his greeting. He embraced her briefly, if tightly, kissing her cheek, taking her hand and gesturing toward the town as a whole. “As you can see, a great work has already been done here.”

“It is lovely,” She breathed, honestly. Dale's towers and roofs were rebuilt, at least in this part of the city, lanterns and lights and all the other merry signs of life showing in every window, every open balcony. Already, her kin were moving among the men and women of the city, and while the far-off, as yet still uninhabited places were still dark, that Dale had come so far in so short a time was miraculous, and she said as much, “Thranduil will be pleased, to hear of how far Dale has come...” 

The evening was a fine one, all gathered there agreed. Kili and Fili both warned Tauriel, and her company, that plenty of their elders weren't much for having more than one elf stay in Erebor at a time. They themselves were merry, though, chatting amiably with the Elven planters as much as they did the Men of Dale, many of whom had been host to them in Esgaroth, in an autumn that seemed so long ago. The feast itself was held just outside of the city, near the soon-to-be-planted fields, around great bonfires. They'd bee lit to entice the powers that be, Tauriel was told, in ancient human traditions. Knowing the Valar as she did, she couldn't much argue their logic.

There was dancing, and Tauriel gladly gave more than one dance to Bard. The warmth in her eyes as she looked on him was that of friendship, and she knew the Man saw as much. Still, it pained her, that his gaze lingered. There was not much that she could do for it, though, even if she were not secretly attached. He was handsome, and he was good, but she could give him no more than that. Bard seemed to see as much in her eyes. That no one guessed it as well, however, both pleased and, oddly, troubled her. 

“Never seen elves bein' so affectionate, out in the open-like,” Kili noted at her side after the evening had worn on, and they sat together at last, outside of the ring of dancers. It was true, the dark-haired pair he indicated were the only Elves dancing among the Men of Dale at present, and she had to smile, wide and amused. They were indeed obviously enamored of each other, as only new lovers (who weren't hiding it) could be.

“Ah, that would be Saniel and Orolyn,” She replied, linking hands with him behind their backs and out of sight, “I believe they have just begun their marriage, so it's to be expected.” Kili's head tilted at that, frowning a touch, and she lofted a questioning brow.

“S'just an odd way of puttin' it, is all,” He answered her, chuckling, “They've 'begun their marriage'...most folk would just say 'got married'.” She nodded, smirking.

“Well, most races have ceremonies to mark the occasion, as I understand it?” He nodded, and she shrugged a shoulder, “Elves rarely do. A couple make promises to each other in private, and sometimes others will know of the preceeding engagement, but generally...” She paused, smile fading as she licked her lips, realizing where this line of conversation may lead, “...It is ah, when they begin to live together, that they are wed, and others regard them as such.” Another frown.

“Elf folk cannae just be roommates?” He smirked, “I mean, mayn't be much to question in most folks' eyes, man an' a lass livin' together, but say two lads weren't wed, just sharin' a house...” He trailed off, though, looking at her face and she knew that he saw the twitch there, the wince. “...Wait, you tol' me, when we...” He glanced around, making sure they weren't within earshot of her sharp-eared kin, “When this began that fer you, the bond was...”

“...Spiritual, as well as physical,” She said, after a moment's pause, eyes suddenly straight ahead. He was quiet for another long moment. And then he was standing up, turning to walk into the shadows outside of the spring fires. He tugged her along, though, and with a deep sigh, Tauriel followed.

They walked until they reached the edges of the nearest field before he finally turned, the young dwarf's expression imploring. She could see him just fine by the light of the full moon, and his eyes made her want to look away. “You tol' me...” He started, brow creasing in confusion, “That elves 'don't love lightly'. But y'didn't tell me everythin', did you?” 

“I told you the truth...” She replied, softly, “...I did not make the truth clear enough, though, no.” Tauriel sank to the grass, curling her legs under her skirts. After a time, Kili sat cross-legged beside her, still watching her as she dipped her head, fingers plucking at the grass. It was a while, before she went on. Kili was ever the patient one, of course, and it made her shake her head, finally speaking.

“Elves don't...don't enter physical congress lightly, because to do so is binding, is to be married.” She said plainly, not yet looking up to meet his eyes. “Not only in our society's view, but because...well, because it is.” A shrug, a soft little smile she was unable to keep from touching her lips at this particular thought, “Your brother and his lass, they will make promises before many witnesses, spend their lives renewing their passions for each other, working to be a pair, as Men do, yes?” 

Though her eyes remained on the far fires, she saw Kili nod in her periphery.

“Elves do not need this.” She whispered, “Souls, hearts and bodies meld. Fates become tied together...it is a vow felt physically.” He shifted at her side, his breathing changing, and her smile fled again, in favor of a wince, “Our engagements last for a year, at least, because of this. Because once the physical act of lovemaking occurs, a life-long bond is made. One cannot be without the other, elder couples have even been known to feel each others pains, and always, a great understanding passes between them...”

“Tauriel...” His voice was strained. At last she looked at him, swallowing hard, steeling herself, and failing miserably as he reached to touch her hand, “Why...why didn't y'tell me?!” He asked in a whisper, “Now you're...I mean, is it the same for you, even if m'not an elf?!”

“It...feels the way it should for me, aye,” She confessed, and he scrubbed a hand over his face, groaning, “I knew what I was doing though, Kili! It was...reckless, but...I knew I was not ensnaring you, only myself...”

“Yourself...” He repeated, weakly, his expression almost heartbreaking now, “...Tauriel, what happens when married elves part? What happens if one of us d-...” He trailed off, and she could practically see the pieces fitting together again for him, his eyes widening. 

Her parents. Her mother slain, and her father fading from grief, finally taking his leave for Valinor, unable to live without her. Suddenly he was in front of her, faster than almost she could register, taking her face in his hands, “Durin's Beard, lass, why'd you do this to yerself?!”

“Because I love you,” Was all the answer she could whisper back, was all the answer there even was. “All my years, I never wanted such a bond, loathed the very thought of it, even,” She went on, his eyes all over her face, his lips parted in a silent exhale, “And then there was you...” He kissed her, fierce and firm, gripping her hair almost painfully as he did.

“...I want it too,” He sounded so very young as he whispered it against her lips, and she couldn't help a gasping little laugh, shaking her head. Kili just nodded back, “I do! I feel for you, like nuthin' before, but I know it 'aint the same...”

“Be thankful,” She whispered back, kissing his nose, “The Elves may never age, grow sick or be easily slain. We're hard to hit, hard to poison, hard to catch. But in this...” She drew his hand to her chest, kissing him again, softly, his taste lingering on her lips, “...We are far weaker than Dwarves or Men.”

“Yer the toughest lass I've ever met...” He maintained, slowly, his voice becoming steadier. “Fierce and strong....and yer tellin' me, you chose t'have that weakness...fer me?” She'd never thought of it as plainly as that, but. Tauriel nodded, smirking, and Kili kissed her yet again. 

“I do not want you to feel guilty,” She told him, brushing her hands over his hair, his beard, “This was my choice. -You- were my choice.”

“Aye, but...” He might have been young, but oh, how his eyes looked older then, meeting hers with a firm and serious resolve, “I'll always know, an' remember, an' never take this lightly.” He took both her hands, then, as they sat there in that grass, under that full moon, “Even if only we know it...yer my wife.” 

In spite of herself, an answering, joyous thing woke in her chest at that word. She let it show in her gaze, looking on him, her passionate, impulsive, and utterly devoted Prince, “Yes I am, husband.”

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	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, for an update after so long, I know this will seem meager. The issue is, this was either going to be REALLY LONG AND NOT VERY WELL CONNECTED, or long with a short, light-hearted intro. I went with the latter option ;D Hopefully this gives you enough of a satisfying taste of things to come!
> 
> I feel the need to point out, after the amount of asks I've gotten on tumblr, that for all this story is prolonged fanservice, I cannot, for all my love of the source material, give you a perfectly happy ending, to any of my current Hobbit fics. The Lord Of The Rings has my heart, wholly, and no matter how AU I go in fic, I will recall the state of the world when Frodo stands up and says, "I WILL TAKE IT!"
> 
> It is a world wherein dwarves and men and elves still mistrust each other, and Frodo's quest is the catalyst to healing old wounds.
> 
> With that in mind, I keep writing even my fluffiest of fics.

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The morning was all mist and shadow, shades over tilled fields and through rebuilt ruins. Mari sat up straight from her spot by a smoldering bonfire, blinking, blushing, realizing she'd fallen asleep at her lord's side after many a drink. Little else seemed to have transpired, at least, Fili's arm firm around her middle as he roused as well, snorting, blinking. Mari found herself grinning shyly, brushing his braids back from his brow.

“S'just past dawn, m'king,” She murmured, and a deep and telling redness flushed the young king of Erebor's face, looking up at his chaste betrothed. Mari only smiled, shy as she was right back, “Dunnae worry, think we only just fell against each other after a few too many.”

“Well that's...well, aye,” Fili coughed, sitting up and reaching for his water skin. After a greedy, grateful drink, the Dwarf King eyed the lingering lumps of flesh in the mists, chuckling. Mari couldn't help but join in. Elves, men and dwarves alike were catatonic after the nights' springtime revelry, folk stumbling home here, snoring by a pillar there. Fili relaxed under her hold, smirking, “Ah, s'nice t'see 'em having a fine time.”

“Aye?” Mari lofted a brow, down to the fine lad looking up at her from his place resting at her breast, biting her lip. They'd been friendly up to this day, and for sure, talking easily and thoroughly as friends. He'd put his gold in her hair with a grin and a kiss to her cheek, calling her his equal and hoping they could be more. But this, here, this was brand new, him looking up at her, eyes flickering between her face and the ample bosom he rested his head upon...Mari smiled wider, “They'll love ya proper for that, m'Lord.”

“Mmm, I do hope y'stop calling me that,” Fili murmured into her cotton tunic, and her breath caught, his fingers gripping her belt, “Yer gonna be my wife, th' one person who can knock me about, set me right...”

“Right, true,” Mari smiled, still holding her bottom lip captive as she looked on him again, daring to run her fingers through his hair, as she'd done with no lad before, “...I'll try my best, M....Fili...”

“Oi, good,” Fili gulped, looking a little shy himself as he met her gaze, winding a long blonde braid around his fingers. Mari smiled, he returned it, and oh, this truly could be something more than just...

She looked up again as movement caught her eye, two figures moving through the dawn-lit mist. They walked close together, and neither seemed as sleepy or spent as those around them, conversing amiably. The Captain's rich laugh carried over the smoldering fires, and Mari recalled seeing neither her nor Kili imbibe much the night before. Indeed, after a certain hour, she hadn't seem them at all.

“It is a marvel, what good friends they are,” She noted aloud, still touching Fili's hair. The king shifted at her side a little, nodding.

“S' invaluable, really,” He smirked, “My brother has learned much of elves and their ways through their friendship, and I think p'raps the Captain has learned likewise.” His tone of voice was even, easy, and Mari found herself easing at it in turn, not realizing how much her nerves had twisted over the thought of an elf and a dwarf growing friendly. And how much the realization shamed her, at least as it regarded Tauriel.

“She was wonderfully kind on our road here,” Mari murmured, as Kili and Tauriel spotted them, moving perhaps the smallest inches apart from each other's sides, smiling, the Prince waving to his brother. “...I think maybe understanding better builds kingdoms than swords, a'times anyway...”

Fili smiled wide at that as he rose, tugging her up with him, “S' why you'll make a fine Queen.”

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Despite the revelries, most of their kin were back on their feet and returning to Erebor by mid-morning. Dwarves were not inclined to hangovers, as it were, and neither were elves (within reason, anyway. Tauriel had tried to defend herself over the whole misadventure with the Dorwinion wine, with no luck where Durin's folk were concerned). The halls still rang with the songs of springtime, even as they rang with the hammers of the forges. 

Fili was rather proud of himself, to tell the truth. His first actual negotiation with an ally, before the high seat of the King, went very well. Tauriel spoke for her king, describing the disrepair the lower end of the Old Forest Road had fallen to, and it all sounded perfectly reasonable to him. “We're sure dark powers befell there, unable to harm the road itself but powerful enough to see that the land around it fell to marshes and sinkholes.” 

“Very likely,” The young King nodded, and then grinned, “Well, with Esgaroth's foundations now long-set, we've certainly the masons to spare and send that way. Our people are traveling that road home, s'in our interests that it's kept in repair.”

“If the foundations can be set, my people can rebuild the enchantments on the road,” Tauriel assured him, breathing easy.

“Within the next few days, I'll have a party of our stone-workers sent that way.” Fili assured her. “And they'll be lodged and fed...?”

“Most certainly, I can have word to my folk by morning,” Tauriel replied. Fili smiled wide.

“Excellent! Let's save the negotiating of the wine route for tomorrow.” Tauriel lofted a brow, and he could just about read her thoughts by her expression. They'd hardly taken five minutes of each other's time, just now. But Fili shrugged, “I know you've planned a hunting party with my brother and my betrothed for this afternoon, I would not want to keep you.”

“...We've much time 'til then, King Fili,” Tauriel responded, slowly, as if trying to make out his game. Fili kept his face smooth, though. He had only Balin and Tauriel to convince at the moment, that he was content to sit. He smiled, shrugging again. 

“The state of the game outside our walls is important. And you'll be with us for weeks yet, m'lady!”

Her eyes narrowed, but she smiled. Fili imagined that she likely thought him simply buying time for she and his brother to spend time together. That was only half the truth, but if it was enough to convince her... 

“By your command, Lord,” The elf dipped her head, first to him and then to Balin, before taking her leave. The old advisor cocked a brow Fili's way, and the young king found himself mustering his best, most carefree smirk, as he stepped down from his throne.

“Well, you managed to perplex an elf...” Balin prompted, tilting his head. Fili sighed, looking properly weary.

“Truth be told, I'd not have 'er knowin' how much drinkin' and dancin' took out of me, Balin,” He lied, patting his chest lightly, where under tunic and fine robes, his jagged wound lingered. The old dwarf merely nodded though, smiling kindly and patting his shoulder. 

“Ah, no, I can understand,” Balin assured him, “Go on and get yourself some rest lad, Erebor'll be fine without you for an afternoon!” 

Fili did not feel as terribly as he thought he might, leaving Balin with the rest of his daily affairs and making for his chambers, hoping his old leathers and such were laid out. Perhaps he was getting a bit too used to lying, he mused, as his sure feet beat out an even time through the great stone halls of Erebor.

 

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End file.
